


I Remember You

by cerebralTheatrics



Category: Persona 4, Persona Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-02-23 14:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 51,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13191645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerebralTheatrics/pseuds/cerebralTheatrics
Summary: An alternate universe fanfic wherein Yu and Naoto are childhood friends reunited after years apart. How would the events of Persona 4 play out differently if Naoto had been the first to join the Investigation Team rather than the last?





	1. Chapter One

" _The typical expression of opening friendship would be something like, 'What? You too? I thought I was the only one.'"_

—C.S. Lewis,  _The Four Loves_

* * *

**Chapter One: Meeting/Reunion**

**Yu**

* * *

**21 April 2003**

It was about five o'clock in the evening when I exited Book On back into the hustle and bustle of Iwatodai Station. I stood still for a moment, quietly contemplating how I'd spend the rest of the day. I briefly considered going to Game Panic, but I quickly dismissed the idea. I didn't feel like trekking all the way over to Paulownia Mall when I knew that the arcade was going to be packed and that I'd have to wait in long lines to play any of the good games. As such, I opted to take a short walk up to Naganaki Shrine, my arms laden with the day's purchases.

I was a regular at the shrine, but it wasn't because I was exceptionally religious. I liked the shrine because it was one of the few places in Tatsumi Port Island that were quiet. On every day that it was pleasantly warm, I'd make a visit to the shrine with books in hand to catch up on my reading and take in the scenery. Many days, I'd stay there until long after the sun had set before I finally went home. Even back then, I knew that it was frowned upon for a child to be out so late while unsupervised. If my parents knew how late I'd stayed out on a regular basis, the disciplining I would've received would've been the stuff of nightmares. Of course, this punishment never came, and I knew that it never would. Truthfully, I probably could have roamed the streets of Port Island until midnight, returned home, got in bed, and my parents wouldn't have been any the wiser.

To say that the amount of contact I had with my parents was limited would be an understatement. On most days, I didn't see them at all. The notes they left for me before they went to work in the morning were the greatest extent of the communication we had with each other. Did the Kirijo Group really overwork its employees that much? It was unlikely; several of my classmates had parents who worked for the Kirijo Group, and their parents' weren't completely absent from their children's lives. What exactly did they have my parents doing? What job duties did my parents have that consumed the majority of their lives? I knew that they were working as scientists, but I never learned anything about their jobs beyond that; I never even learned what kind of scientists they were. Chemists? Biologists? Physicists? The only days I saw my parents for more than a few minutes on were national holidays, but by lunchtime, they would have excused themselves to go to some undisclosed event or another, and they wouldn't return until the early hours of the next morning. It was a lonely home life, but I got used to it quickly; I could take care of myself reasonably well, and I had my books to occupy my mind.

The crowd on the street thinned out substantially as I grew closer and closer to the shrine. I approached the benches of the shrine's playground, I noticed something extremely unusual: another person. She was a young girl of about my age or perhaps a bit younger. Her dark blue hair was unusual, to put it mildly, but I wasn't in any position to talk; my prematurely grey hair undoubtedly appeared bizarre to her. Her grey eyes were fixed firmly upon the ground. She seemed to be in deep thought. Given that I'd never had to be in the presence of another person at the shrine, I wasn't entirely sure what the proper protocol for the situation was. I approached her, hoping that she would notice my presence, but she remained as still and silent as a statue. After a few seconds had passed, I cleared my throat and said, "Excuse me; do you mind if I sit here?" as I gestured to the adjacent bench. It was only polite to ask before doing, right?

It took her a moment before she acknowledged my words. She looked up from the ground, repeatedly trying and failing to make eye contact with me as she said, "That's fine; go ahead." The severe stutter in her speech made those four words drag out much longer than one would think.

Having been granted her permission to do so, I sat on the bench, placing the shopping bags at my feet. For the first time, I did not find the silence of the shrine relaxing; instead, I found it incredibly awkward. I felt that I should make some token attempt at conversation.

"My name's Yu," I said, trying to be as genial as possible.

Once again, she looked towards me, almost but not quite making eye contact.

"I'm Naoto," she said, stuttering even more badly than before.

Once again, silence fell upon the shrine. It was very clear that I was making her incredibly uncomfortable, and it would be for the best if I kept my mouth shut. I reached into one of the shopping bags and pulled out one of the books:  _Detective Doyle: The Nation of the Monks_.

I'd waited that day for far too long. I'd devoured the entire  _Detective Doyle_  franchise in less than a week roughly two years prior to that day, and I'd waited so eagerly for it. It was originally slated for release less than a month after I'd finished up the rest of the series, but then it was delayed. It was delayed five times, in fact. After endless frustration with the constantly moving release date, however, I finally held it within my hands. I hadn't even made it past the first page when I was abruptly interrupted.

"You like  _Detective Doyle_ too?" Naoto said with a surprising degree of energy, her stutter gone.

I looked up from my book to see her staring very intensely at me with a look of a mixture of disbelief and glee in her eyes, a far cry from the sullen and nervous look she bore when I last attempted to talk to her.

A smile came to my face. I'd never met another person who'd shared my interest in the books, and judging by her abrupt change in demeanor, neither had she.

"Yes! They're my favorite books!" I said, probably louder than I intended. It was very difficult for me to contain my excitement. My tastes were a bit esoteric for my age; the only thing I liked that was popular at school was  _Featherman_ , and it gets very old very quickly when there's only one thing that one can talk about.

"Which one's you favorite?" Naoto asked. By this point, she'd moved from her bench to mine and was speaking loudly enough that she'd be drawing a lot of attention to herself had we not been the only ones there.

" _The Symbol of the Seven,_ " I replied.

I'd forgotten entirely about my new books at this point. I'm not quite certain how long we stayed on that topic of conversation, be we'd talked about everything from the twist ending of  _His Final Bow_  to who the best side character was to speculation on what the resolution of all the dangling plot threads would be. This continued until my throat became so sore from talking that I had to stop for a moment. Silence fell upon the shrine for the first time in a long time. Naoto quickly took notice of this.

"Oh. Did I say something wrong? Do you want to talk about something else?" she said. Her stutter had returned, and she once again had difficulty maintaining eye contact.

"No, not at all!" I said, panicking a little. I felt immense guilt that I'd made her feel like she was boring me. She must have noticed the hoarseness of my voice, as her immediate reaction was to retrieve a bottle of water from her backpack and hand it to me. I nodded my head in a gesture of appreciation and rapidly downed the contents of the bottle. Once again, there was silence.

"I'm sorry if I got carried away. I don't get to talk about this stuff a lot," she said.

"Neither do I," I said in reply. By this point, the moon and stars were visible in the sky. I knew that I wouldn't have to be home for quite a while, but I was getting a bit worried that our lengthy conversation would get Naoto in trouble with her parents.

"Do you need to be going home soon?" I asked.

"I forgot my house keys this morning. I have to wait until my grampa gets home, and he works late tonight," she said, blushing a bit and looking and sounding incredibly embarrassed. A thought dawned on her after she said that.

"Oh! Do you? Did I talk too much?" she said, panicking again.

"No, it's fine. My parents won't be home for a long time," I said, trying to reassure her. Once again, the shrine was silent.

"You see that?" I said as I pointed the sky and traced my finger along a line of stars, "That's Hydra." I knew that astronomy wasn't exactly a hot topic of conversation, but I was really struggling to come up with something to talk about. Much to my surprise, she pointed to the sky and did the same.

"And that's Serpens," said Naoto.

"And that's Corvus," I said. I honestly couldn't believe it. I'd learned all sorts of things about all sorts of topics through reading, and I never found another person to talk about them with. Every time I tried, I only succeeded in boring them. By some miracle, however, I'd found another person who delighted in all the same topics that I did. Our conversation jumped from subject to subject several more times until midway through a discussion about Japanese mythology, she looked down at her watch and frowned.

"I really have to go now," she said, seeming rather disappointed. Instead of leaving right away, however, she looked at me to say one last thing.

"I had a good time today. Can you meet me here tomorrow at five?" she said with great nervousness. I could tell that she was deathly afraid that I'd say no. There was no danger of that, however.

"Yes, of course!" I said. After having such a good time today, how could I refuse? Naoto smiled wider than she had all day.

"Great! I'll see you then!" she said.

I watched her as she left, and once again, I was alone. I had come to the shrine today to be alone, and now that I had what I wanted, it felt kind of sad. The irony was not lost on me. Seeing no reason to stay, I gathered my belongings and started towards home. For the first time in a long time, a day had gone by where I'd gotten no reading done. The day was hardly wasted, however. I'd met an interesting person who liked talking about the things I liked, and I'd be able to talk to her again tomorrow.

Overall, I'd say that it was a pretty good day.

* * *

**11 April 2011**

Wherever I was, it certainly wasn't the train to Inaba. I appeared to be inside of a moving limo. I had never been in a limo before, but the fact that every surface within the vehicle was some shade of blue certainly struck me as odd. The fog outside was so thick that I honestly thought that the windows had been painted grey for a few seconds.

"Welcome to the Velvet Room," said a voice from across the vehicle. I turned my head in the direction of the voice and was greeted by the oddest looking man that I'd ever seen in my entire life. He was a short, squat man with receding white hair, pointed ears, bulging, bloodshot eyes, and a nose that protruded out at least thirty centimeters from his face. His toothy smile stretched across most of his lower face. He more closely resembled a goblin than a human being. Next to him sat a tall woman with silver hair dressed entirely in blue. Unlike Igor, she might have been able to pass for a normal person had it not been for her bright yellow eyes.

"Ah, it seems we have a guest with an intriguing destiny," he said, chuckling quietly. "My name is Igor. I am delighted to make your acquaintance."

After the initial shock had worn off, I asked the first of many, many questions that I had.

"Where am I?" I asked. The man laughed to himself as if the answer was self-evident.

"This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. It is a room that only those who are bound by a 'contract' may enter. It may be that such a fate awaits you in the near future," said Igor.

After he had explained himself, I actually understood less about the situation than I did going in. This place existed between dream and reality? How? Also, what was this talk about a contract? I hadn't signed any contract. I was going to ask him to elaborate, but he spoke before I had a chance to.

"Now then, why don't you introduce yourself?" said Igor. After a brief pause, I managed to answer him.

"My name is Yu Narukami," I said with no shortage of hesitation. I won't lie. I was more than a little afraid of Igor at that time. I attempted to ask one of the many, many questions that were running through my mind, but once again, Igor interrupted me.

"Hm. I see. Now, let's take a look into your future, shall we?" said Igor, producing a deck of tarot cards.

"Do you believe in fortune telling?" he said.

"No, not really," I answered. Igor didn't seem particularly interested in my reply because placed the cards upon the table anyway. I might have been impressed by the deftness with which he dealt the cards had I not been so hopelessly confused.

"Each reading is done with the same cards, yet the result is always different. Life itself follows the same principles, doesn't it?" said Igor. He then flipped over one of the cards.

"Hm. The Tower in the upright position represents the immediate future. It seems a terrible catastrophe is imminent," said Igor. I didn't think that it was possible for the situation to become any more uncomfortable, but it just did.

"What kind of catastrophe?" I asked Igor. Upon hearing my words, he merely chuckled and waved one of his gloved hands at me flippantly before turning over another card.

"The card indicating the future beyond that is The Moon, in the upright position. This card represents 'hesitation' and 'mystery.' Very interesting indeed," said Igor.

"'Interesting' is one word for it," I said to myself.

"It seems you will encounter a misfortune at your destination, and a great mystery will be imposed upon you," said Igor. "In the coming days, you will enter into a contract of some sort, after which you will return here."

"I'd rather not," I said. Igor apparently thought that I was very comical, as he laughed once again upon hearing that.

"The coming year is a turning point in your destiny. If the mystery goes unsolved, your future may be forever lost," said Igor.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" I asked.

"Because it is my duty to provide assistance to our guests to ensure that that does not happen," said Igor.

Guests? I looked to my left and to my right. Aside from Igor and the woman in blue, I was the only one there.

"Ah! I have neglected to introduce my assistant to you," said Igor. He gestured to the woman sitting adjacent to him.

"This is Margaret. She is a resident of this place, like myself," said Igor. Margaret nodded in acknowledgment.

"My name is Margaret. I am here to accompany you through your journey," she said.

"What journey?" I asked wearily. I didn't expect a meaningful answer. The two residents of the Velvet Room had been thoroughly unhelpful thus far. Meeting my expectations perfectly, Margaret remained silent, and Igor merely laughed at my frustration.

"We shall attend to the details another time. Until then, farewell," said Igor. I tried to fit in another question, but the words died in my throat as everything started to fade to black.

* * *

 

I awoke abruptly when the train passed over a bump in the tracks. Despite having slept for the majority of the train ride, I actually felt more tired than I did earlier. I checked my phone for the time. It was a few minutes before three in the afternoon, one hour before my estimated time of arrival. I tried to go back to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes for more than a few seconds, I was greeted with visions of my extremely vivid dream of the Velvet Room, jolting me awake. With the possibility of sleep removed, I had nothing to do but stare out the window and reflect upon my situation.

It was about five weeks ago that I learned that I'd be moving. This was not unexpected in the slightest. I'd had to move every year since my parents and I left Port Island. What was unusual, however, was who I'd be living with and were. My parents had returned home early—by which I mean they had arrived home a few minutes after midnight—and told me that their work required them to move to San Francisco for the next year. I immediately began to panic. I was accustomed to moving all over Japan, but the idea moving overseas was simply too much. My panic was short-lived, however, as my mother was quick to explain that I'd be staying with my uncle Ryotaro Dojima in the town of Inaba. I felt both relieved and perplexed upon hearing this news. Firstly, I never knew that I had an uncle. I pressed my mother for more information on him, and it immediately became clear that she hadn't really kept in touch with her brother. The only bits of information that she was able to supply me with was that he worked as a police detective and was a widower who lived with his daughter, Nanako. Secondly, I'd never heard of Inaba. I attempted to research it online, but resources were scant. The only meaningful detail that I had managed to gather was it was a very rural town located a few hours' drive from Okina City. I had mixed feelings about it. I'd spent my entire life living in large metropolitan cities. On one hand, the countryside could be a welcome change of pace. On the other, I would be completely outside of my element. Whatever the case may have been, I'd have to live with it for the next year.

"Yasoinaba! Yasoinaba!" cried the speaker on the train. My stop had arrived. I gathered my belongings and exited the station into Inaba, and I was greeted with a very pleasing sound: silence. Despite the fact that I had never set foot outside of the big city in my entire life, I was never able to get over my distaste for the noise. I would spend as much time at home or in the few quiet corners of the city that I could find. If even the train station of this town could be this quiet in the middle of the day, I could see myself living here very happily indeed. I know that it sounds like such a silly, insignificant thing, but Inaba really had made a very good first impression on me for this simple fact alone.

"Hey! Over here!" said a male voice coming from the bottom of the steps, snapping me out of my reverie. I looked in the direction the voice came from, and I was greeted by a middle-aged man with a dark tan wearing a grey shirt and a red necktie. I descended the steps to greet him.

"Well, you're more handsome in person than in your photo," he said as we shook hands. "Welcome to Inaba. I'm Ryotaro Dojima. I'll be looking after you. Let's see…I'm your mother's younger brother…and that about sums it up."

"It's nice to meet you," I said to Dojima.

"Heh. You probably don't remember, but we've met. I've changed your diapers, you know," said Dojima. He seemed like a very nice man, but to this day, I still cannot get over how incredibly awkward his greeting was.

"This here's my daughter," he said, stepping back to reveal the young girl in pink that had been standing behind him. She looked positively terrified of me, and I worried to myself if I had said or done something wrong, but she was probably just anxious around new people.

"Come on, Nanako, introduce yourself to your cousin," said Dojima.

Nanako remained silent and averted her eyes from mine.

"…'lo," she muttered almost inaudibly. I felt rather guilty that I was making her feel so uncomfortable. Dojima, on the other hand, found this highly entertaining and chuckled at his daughter's awkwardness.

"What are you so shy for?" asked Dojima in a playful tone. Nanako was not as nearly as amused as her father was, apparently, as she slapped Dojima across his midsection. Dojima was clearly unaffected by this, but nonetheless, he feigned pain and gave another soft laugh.

"Well then, let's get going. My car's over there," said Dojima. I began following him, but I stopped when I heard a feminine voice called out to me.

"Hey! You dropped this," the voice said. I turned around to see a girl with short black hair. Her sense of fashion was unconventional, to say the least. Granted, it was fairly tame by the standards of a big city; I saw far much more daring outfits every day there. It's just that I had pictured the styles of the countryside being far more subdued. I wondered how she got behind me. I was the only one who had gotten off the train at Yasoinaba Station, and the parking lot seemed totally barren save for myself and the Dojimas.

"You dropped this," she said. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but she seemed to be in a rather foul mood.

"Ah, thank you very much!" I said to her, taking the slip of paper she held in her hand. It was the note that had Dojima's home address on it.

"Whatever. All I did was pick it up," she said bitterly. Did I do something to offend her? How was that even possible? I had barely spoken to her.

"What's wrong?" said Dojima from across the parking lot.

"Sorry, I was just talking to…" I turned back around to where the girl had been, but she had vanished. I must've looked like a lunatic to Dojima.

"Nothing," I said approaching the car. Thankfully, Dojima didn't press me any further on the matter.

As the car started moving, I felt as though I should try to make some effort to converse with Dojima. I wasn't an overly talkative person, but the man was kind enough to take me into his home for a year. Being totally asocial would be rude, wouldn't it?

"Detective Dojima, I would just like to emphasize how grateful I am that you would be willing to…" I began before Dojima cut me off.

"Stop. Don't thank me. You're family, and this is what family does," he said, taking his eyes off the road for just a moment to smile gently at me. He no doubt intended to be reassuring, but instead of making me feel relaxed, his words made me feel incredibly foolish.

"So, how's your mom doing?" asked Dojima. I struggled to come up with an answer. The honest answer would be 'I wouldn't know because I almost never see her,' but I doubted that he'd appreciate that answer.

"Very good. She's been working very hard lately," I said. I hoped that if I was vague enough, he'd drop the question, and thankfully, he did.

"How was Shibuya?" he said.

"Loud and crowded," I said. I had no love for any of the cities I'd ever lived in, but Shibuya was especially bad. Dojima merely laughed.

"If you like the quiet, you'll be more than happy here," he said jokingly.

Dojima and I exchanged small talk for a few minutes while Nanako sat silently in the back seat. We eventually arrived in what appeared to be Inaba's shopping district, and Dojima stopped at a Moel gas station. After rolling down the window, a very eager attendant ran up to the car.

"Hi! Welcome to Moel!" said the attendant excitedly. Dojima exited the car.

Nanako had been visibly fidgeting in her seat for a while by this point. Knowing exactly why, Dojima looked back at Nanako and asked, "Can you go to the bathroom by yourself?"

"Uh-huh," said Nanako as she exited the car.

"It's in the back, to your left. You know which way's left? The side you don't hold your chopsticks in," said the attendant.

"I know, geez," said Nanako, very offended that this attendant thought that she was so juvenile that she couldn't distinguish left from right.

I exited the vehicle. Between the train ride and the car ride, I'd spent far too much time sitting. I needed to stretch my legs.

"Are you taking a trip?" asked the attendant.

'No, we just went to pick him up," answered Dojima as he looked over to me. "He just moved here from the big city."

The attendant looked over from Dojima to me. "The city, huh?" she said.

"Fill up my car while you're at it. Regular's fine," said Dojima.

"Right away, sir!" said the attendant

"Good time as any for a smoke," said Dojima quietly before leaving the gas station.

Rather than getting to work, the attendant looked directly at me, staring into my eyes very intensely. Needless to say, it was a little creepy. Once Dojima was out of earshot, she spoke again.

"Are you in high school?" asked the attendant. I found it rather odd that the attendant would neglect her job to strike up a conversation with me of all people.

"Yes. I'll be going to Yasogami High for the next year," I said.

"Does it surprise a city boy to see how little there is out here? There's so little to do, I'm sure you'll get bored fast. You'll either be hanging out with your friends or doing part-time jobs," the attendant said. Without intention, her words cut ever so slightly. I suppose I didn't like being reminded that I hadn't had any close friends since I moved away from Port Island all those years ago.

"Speaking of which, we're actually looking for some part-time help right now. Give it some thought, why don't you? We don't mind if you're a student," said the attendant. I then wondered if attempting to recruit me was the reason she bothered talking to me.

"Thank you. I'll think about it," I said. It was a lie. I didn't really have any interest in a part-time job at that moment, but I didn't want to be rude. We shook hands. It sounds so innocent, but this was unlike any other handshake I'd ever had before or since that day. It felt like she was trying to crush every bone in my hand into dust. She clearly hadn't noticed me wince, as she maintained the handshake for about seven seconds. Before I could object, she released me at last.

"Oh, I should get back to work," the attendant said before walking off. She said it so casually, as if there was nothing unusual about the fact that she'd nearly severed my hand with her grip.

The pain didn't subside when she let go. It actually got worse. It spread up my arm and eventually throughout my entire body as if my hand had been bitten by a hundred vipers. My head felt like it had been struck by Mjölnir. I hadn't eaten anything all day, but I was overcome by an overpowering urge to vomit.

"Are you okay?" asked Nanako, startling me. I hadn't noticed her exit the restroom. I opened my mouth to speak but I was in such a state that couldn't properly formulate words.

"Did you get carsick? You don't look too good," said Nanako with genuine concern in her voice.

"No, don't worry. I'm fine," I said after a few seconds of trying and failing to speak. The mere act of speech was a herculean task in the condition I was in.

"What's wrong? You okay?" said Dojima, returning from his smoke break.

"It's nothing. I'm okay," I said. I put on the best smile that I could manage in the condition that I was in as I lied through my teeth, but despite my best efforts, it was abundantly clear that Dojima didn't believe me.

"It must have been a long trip for you. Why don't you take a little walk, get some fresh air," said Dojima.

"Yeah, that sounds great. I'll be back soon," I said while futilely attempting to downplay how sick I felt. I took a few steps and nearly fell flat on my face. Thankfully, neither Nanako nor Dojima noticed. Eventually in was able to balance myself, and I continued down the sidewalk. The walk wasn't much, but it was able to take my mind off the pain. With each passing meter, my coordination got a little bit better, my nausea faded a little more, and my head got a little bit clearer. Once I had made it halfway through the shopping district, I'd regained my ability to walk like a fully functioning human. Every part of my body still ached like I was run over by a tank, but I felt that I could probably move about without injuring myself. Eventually, I saw a red  _torii,_ indicating that I had reached the town's shrine. I thought that I might as well visit it and maybe make a short prayer to whatever gods were listening and ask them to rid me of this searing pain. I never got to make this prayer, however. The very idea left my mind as soon as I saw the person standing between me and the altar.

Though she was dressed like a boy, that dark blue hair and those grey eyes were unmistakable. The expression she wore after seeing me was one of pure shock and disbelief. It looked as though she had just witnessed a unicorn stride up to her. The first few seconds of our reunion were as quiet as the vacuum of space. Neither of us was prepared for the situation we had found ourselves thrust into. There were about a million things that I wanted to say, but for the longest time, I couldn't pinpoint which one I should say first. I'm not quite sure how long I stood there with my mouth open like an idiot before I was finally able to break the silence.

"Hi Naoto," I said.


	2. Chapter Two

" _Where Need-love is felt there may be reasons for denying or totally mortifying it; but not to feel it is in general the mark of the cold egoist. Since we do in reality need one another...then the failure of this need to appear as Need-love in consciousness in other words, the illusory feeling that it is good for us to be alone is a bad spiritual symptom; just as lack of appetite is a bad medical symptom because men do really need food."_

— C.S. Lewis,  _The Four Loves_

* * *

**Chapter Two: Moving On/Fixation**

**Naoto**

* * *

**22 April 2003**

"I made a new friend yesterday," I said to Grampa as I sat at the kitchen table. Upon hearing those words, he put down his newspaper.

"Really? That's wonderful! Who is it?" said Grampa loudly. He seemed even happier about it than I was.

"His name's Yu. He's really cool and smart and likes the same stuff that I do," I said. Grampa nodded in acknowledgment.

"I see; I see," said Grampa, "Is he from your school?" asked Grampa. Truthfully, I had given up hope of ever making friends at school by that point. Part of it was because I was utterly incompetent at social interaction, and part of it was because my classmates did not really care for me. Most of the boys had not yet matured to the point that they were willing to associate with girls, and because my interests and tastes were not exactly typical for a young girl, most of the other girls turned their noses up at me.

"No. I met him at the shrine yesterday," I said.

"Interesting, interesting. Is he your age?" said Grampa, wanting to make sure that I wasn't consorting with strange adults.

"I think he's about a year older than me," I said.

"Okay. Well, I'm very happy for you," said Grampa, smiling.

"Grampa, I promised to meet him at the shrine today after school. Is that okay?" I said nervously.

"I don't see why not. Just be home at a sensible hour, okay?" said Grampa, much to my relief. After finishing breakfast, I headed for the door.

"Be sure to take your keys with you!" said Grampa. I checked my pocket and confirmed that I did indeed have my keys. I didn't want to lock myself outside for a second time.

"I've got them," I said.

"Good. Well, I hope you have a great time today!" said Grampa as I headed for the door.

Two thoughts were on my mind as I walked to school. The first was my meeting with Yu after school. For the first time in quite a while, I had something at the end of the day to be eager about. For as long as I could remember, I wanted someone outside of my family who I could spend time with. I wanted someone I who would talk to me and have fun with. No matter how hard I tried, however, I simply couldn't find anyone.

And yet I found Yu without trying at all.

The second of those thoughts was why Grampa was so happy when I told him that I made a friend. He wasn't merely pleased; he was positively elated. At the time, I just assumed that he was excited by the fact that the supreme introvert that was his granddaughter had found companionship in another person for the first time in her life. Looking back with perfect hindsight, however, I can tell that there was something more to it. To him, this was a possible indicator that our lives were achieving some semblance of normality after the catastrophe the rocked them last month.

The twentieth of March, 2003 is a date that will be burned deeply into my mind for the rest of my life. It was the day that the world as I knew it was shattered into pieces. It was the day the lives of the famous detective couple Katsuo and Kokoro Shirogane were snuffed out.

That day didn't start off much differently than any other day. My parents and I ate breakfast together, I hugged each of them before they went off to work, and I returned to my room to watch television and read. As usual, when the sun began to set, I returned to the living room to wait for my parents to return home from work like always. Thirty minutes passed. I didn't think anything of it; they had been busy with the high-profile murder case of a city council member lately. I grabbed a book from my room and returned to the living room. An hour passed. Then another. Then another. Then another. By the time the clock had struck three in the morning, I could no longer distract myself with the book. My eyes were heavy, but I forced myself to stay awake. This had never happened before; my parents had come home late in the past but never this late, and they always made sure to notify me when they had to work through the night. An overpowering sense of dread began to fill me. In the back of my mind, I began to suspect the worst, but I pushed those thoughts out of my head. Nothing bad could ever happen to the greatest two detectives in Japan, right? They were untouchable! Invincible! Surely, if I stared at the door for long enough, they would walk in, and everything would be okay.

It was about ten minutes before four in the morning when I finally heard the doorknob begin to turn. My energy returned to me in an instant and I was overcome with great relief. I sprang from my seat and headed for the door, but when it opened, I saw neither Father nor Mother; it was Grampa. The look on his face immediately told me that something was very, very wrong. My usually cheery and upbeat Grampa was wearing an expression that was a mix between horror and pure despair. Without a word, a knelt down on the floor and hugged me tightly. After about fifteen seconds, he released me and looked directly into his eyes. I could tell that he was trying with all his might to keep himself from breaking out into tears, multiplying my own anxiety many times over. He kept opening his mouth to speak, but he failed to produce any words. He was trying to think of something to say. He wanted to soften the blow of what was coming, but he couldn't figure out how. Eventually, I had to say something. I couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Grampa, what's wrong?" I said worriedly.

Grampa broke eye contact for a brief moment and breathed in deeply. He looked back up at me at spoke at last.

"Your mother and father were in a very bad car accident," said Grampa slowly. He paused for a few seconds before continuing.

"They didn't make it," he said.

As soon as those words left his lips, I froze. I simply could not process the information that was just relayed unto me. The very idea was impossible for me to comprehend. It wasn't because I didn't understand the concept of death. It was because my mind was unwilling to accept it as fact. I wanted to believe that it was a mistake or some kind of cruel, cruel joke. Try as I might to deny it, however, it was very clear that what Grampa was the grim truth of the matter. Once that had finally sunk in, I cried longer and harder than I ever had in my entire life with Grampa holding me tightly in his arms the whole time.

Mother and Father's deaths were all over the news the next day. On every channel and in every newspaper, the story of my parents' tragic demise was being told to the nation. A new lead on their case had been unexpectedly discovered, requiring them to stay at late extra late without warning. It was nearly midnight by the time they were finally able to return home. When they were about fifteen minutes from our house, a drunk driver smashed into the right side of their car at over 150 kilometers per hour. My father and the drunk both died on impact. My mother died as she was being taken to the hospital. For a day, the entire country of Japan was in deep despair over the deaths of two of its most brilliant and celebrated detectives, but as fast as it began, the public's brief period of mourning ended. Everyone carried on with their lives as usual. Everyone except for Grampa and me.

In the days following the funeral, Grampa did everything in his power to make me comfortable. He couldn't stand to see me so brokenhearted. He wanted to help me move on as quickly as possible, but progress was slow indeed. All it took was one look at the two urns and the two framed photographs placed side by side atop the mantel to remind me that things would never be the same ever again.

And yet there I was, just a little over a month later, telling him that I made a friend. After what seemed like an eternity spent in a pit of purest sorrow, things were finally looking up for the both of us.

I arrived at school, and the day carried out as it always had: dully. Not a single teacher I had ever had the misfortune of being taught by had ever learned to teach a lesson in a manner that was even mildly engaging. Everything they taught could be explained better, more quickly, and more interestingly by a book. That being said, I didn't want to earn the disapproval of my educators, so every day I put a great deal of effort into making it appear as though I was paying close attention when in reality I spent most of my time in class daydreaming. It worked most of the time. I get the feeling that some of my teachers saw through my deceptions because they always seemed to call upon me a disproportionate number of times, but I always answered every question correctly and performed flawlessly on every assignment, so no one could deny the fact that I was a good student.

I had about two hours before my scheduled meeting with Yu, but my overwhelming excitement drove me to rush over to the shrine the second that I exited the school. As was the case yesterday, the shrine was utterly devoid of life. I sat on a bench and waited for Yu to arrive. Whereas school seemed to fly by that day, the wait at the shrine seemed to drag out forever. I passed some time by doing my homework, but I still had an hour to go once I was done. A single hour might sound insignificant, but to my seven-year old self, it tested my patience tremendously. I entertained the idea of going to Book On to purchase the  _Detective Doyle_  book that came out the previous day, but I didn't want to leave the shrine; I would have felt terrible if I had gotten stuck in the crowds of Iwatodai Station and left Yu waiting for me at the shrine all by himself.

It was about ten minutes before four when an immense wave of excitement washed over me as I saw Yu in the distance heading towards the shrine. Without even thinking, I shot up from my seat and waved towards in him in such a way that called as much attention to myself as possible. Honestly, I was making such a spectacle of myself that it would have embarrassed me to no end had we not been the only two people sight. It was impossible for him not to notice me. With a panicked look on his face, he stopped and walking and looked down at his watch and then back to me. When he began moving again, he was visibly faster than he was before he had spotted me. Once he reached me, he began apologizing profusely.

"I am so sorry, Naoto! My watch must be wrong. How long did I keep you waiting for?" he said, a bit out of breath.

"No! No! You're on time! I just came early; that's all," I said, hoping to reassure him.

"Oh. Well, that's good," he said. He let out a nervous chuckle, trying to alleviate a bit of the awkwardness.

"How was your day?" I asked. He frowned.

"Same as usual," he said. Judging by the tone of his voice, he found school as about as interesting as I did.

"I understand," I said.

"Hey, I've got something I think you might like," he said, perking up. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a box. It was a kit containing all the parts necessary to make a scale model of the titular robot from the show  _Jumbo Robo_. The show had ended more than two decades before I was born, but reruns aired all the time, and I watched them at every opportunity I had the chance to. What I found particularly curious about the kit was that it was obviously old, but it looked pristine. Where did he obtain such a perfectly preserved piece of memorabilia? I wanted to ask so badly, but my curiosity was overshadowed by my excitement.

"I thought it might be nice to have something to work on while we talked. What do you say?" he said.

"Yes! Thank you so much!" I said. We sat down on the picnic table and began assembling the model. To some, it might sound like the most tedious thing imaginable, but even when I was a kid, I enjoyed working with my hands. I loved taking apart things and putting them back together. I loved building new things from the scraps of older things. From think look on his face that day, Yu did too. Just like the previous night, our conversation jumped from topic to topic with little rhyme or reason. One minute we were talking about  _Jumbo Robo_ , and with no provocation whatsoever, we switched over to his recent attempts into teaching himself origami and to Grampa's and my newfound interest in watchmaking. Neither of us minded. We both had a lot to say, and we were both genuinely fascinated by what the other had to say.

"I finished up  _The Nation of the Monks_ this morning. It wasn't worth the wait at all. You should save your money," he said after I asked for his opinion about the book he was reading yesterday. He wiped a bit of excess glue off of the parts he held in his hands.

"That's a shame," I said as I put another sticker on the model. I looked up from our half-finished model and saw just how low in the sky the sun was. I must've lost track of time. I looked down at my watch. Grampa would be home in less than an hour.

"I have to leave now," I said hurriedly.

"Oh! Did I make you late?" said Yu, interpreting my urgency as a sign that I was about to be in trouble.

"No! No! Grampa just expects me home soon, that's all," I said. Grampa probably wouldn't punish me for arriving home after him, but he had been in a precarious position emotionally for obvious reasons, and the idea of making him worry about me just did not sit right with me.

"Ah. That's fine," said Yu as he started carefully packing the multitudinous pieces of the unfinished model back into the box.

"I still have a little time. Do you need help with that?" I said.

"No, I can do it. Can we meet again tomorrow?" said Yu.

"Sure! See you at five?" I said.

"That works for me. See you then," said Yu, smiling at me. I started to walk off, but a thought crossed my mind, and I just had to ask.

"You know, that looks like it could take a while. I really can help if you need it. I don't want you to get in trouble with your mom and dad," I said. Yu seemed to have no qualms about staying out this late. It worried me to think that he would make his parents fear for his safety.

"It's fine. It's not like they would even notice," said Yu. His disposition changed immensely as he said that. He seemed very sullen and resentful for a moment.

"Anyway, have a great night!" said Yu, suddenly snapping out of his brief bout of melancholy. His change in mood and quick return to normal made me a little concerned, but I brushed it aside. The issue of his parents was clearly a sensitive one, and given my circumstances, I wouldn't have reacted much differently if he had asked me about my parents. I decided it would be best if I didn't press him on the issue.

I returned home, and for the first time in a month, my eyes didn't dart over to the mantle.

* * *

**11 April 2011**

All it took was one bad day to put an end to the career I had worked so hard for.

I was assigned to the Genocide Junko case on the third of January. My superiors undoubtedly did so for no other reason than to keep me busy. To them, I was just a middle schooler who didn't belong anywhere near a criminal investigation. They wanted to give me an impossible task so that I'd stay out of their way, and if I failed at it, it would give them justification to get rid of me. It didn't matter how useful I was to them. After all the cases that I had been instrumental in solving, they still wanted me gone. Even though I knew their true motives, however, I was absolutely ecstatic when I received the assignment. Even the most seasoned of Japan's detectives had given up hope on cracking the case. If I could succeed where they had failed, I would finally receive the respect that I deserved. I could finally show the world that I was a worthy inheritor to the Shirogane name.

Genocide Junko was the nickname assigned to the unidentified serial killer who had brutally slaughtered over seventy people in Sapporo over the course of six years. One would think that there would be piles upon piles of evidence left behind, but Junko had left behind so little meaningful evidence behind that not even a single potential suspect had been identified. Few were willing to admit it, but most of my colleagues had resigned to the fact that Junko would most likely never face justice. I, however, would not accept that. I spent night after night after night pouring over police reports, crime scene photographs, and witness testimonies. I examined and reexamined the case from every conceivable angle. Eventually, my relentless toil began to bear fruit. Progress was being made for the first time in years. It was around this time that I began to notice changes occurring at the station. More specifically, the attitude of my co-workers toward me had begun to shift. It was noticeable only through very subtle cues. My superiors' tones of voice became less condescending. People were asking for my input more often. My coworkers looked genuinely interested when I was speaking. For the first time in my career, I felt like my work was appreciated. For the first time, I felt wanted. The feeling was intoxicating, and it did not take long for my initial enthusiasm to mutate into a crippling obsession. I began to neglect sleeping and eating so that I could spend more time working. By the middle of February, I was receiving, at most, twenty hours of sleep and ten meals per week. It did not take long for my negligence toward my physiological needs to take its toll on me. I lost at least ten kilograms of body weight and was in a constant state of fatigue, but the rapid deterioration of my health did not matter to me. The only thing that mattered to me was solving the case. I was dead set on proving my mettle as a detective, and I was thoroughly convinced that nothing would stop me. On the tenth of March, however, my body made it clear to me that it would withstand no more of my abuse.

I had managed to formulate a list of potential subjects. Needless to say, this was a huge breakthrough. I was to present my findings before the entire prefectural police department that morning. I looked out in front of me and saw that all of Sapporo' detectives were looking at me with rapt attention. Even my harshest critics seemed eager to hear what I had to say. The moment I had waited so long had finally arrived. Tragically, that joyous occasion quickly took a turn for the worst. I was accustomed to feeling sore, weary, and nauseous by that point, but as my presentation wore on, my malaise intensified beyond anything I had ever experienced. I had been speaking for only ten minutes when I began to notice that something was very, very wrong. My speech became so slurred that my words were incomprehensible even to myself. I began sweating so profusely that my clothes looked as though they had been doused with a fire hose. A numbness spread across my entire body. Eventually, everything faded to black. The last thing I remember was a sharp pain that came after my head made contact with the side of a desk as I fell to the floor.

I awoke several hours later in a hospital room. The sight I was greeted with as my eyes fluttered open was that of Grampa leaning over my bed. When he noticed that I had regained consciousness, he breathed a deep, deep sigh of relief. It was evident from the redness of his eyes that he had been crying. It was our first face-to face meeting in nearly three years. Shortly after I began my career as a detective had begun, he had retired to the town of Inaba. I looked at the clock on the wall and did the math in my head. For him to be here, the moment he learned that I had been hospitalized, he would have had to drop everything that he was doing so that he could drive all across the length of Japan. Our time apart had made forget just how much Grampa valued me.

Grampa did not leave my side for the rest of the night. At around noon the following morning, I was permitted to leave the hospital, for aside from a bruise on the left side of my head, I had sustained no real damage. After a stern talking-to from the physician about the importance of a proper diet and sleep schedule, my Grampa and I left the building. The second that the doors of the car closed, Grampa's demeanor changed drastically. Before then, he had been his usual warm, loving self. During the car ride, however, he abruptly became cold and distant. I attempted to converse with him, but he refused to even acknowledge my presence.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Grampa sped past my apartment. I didn't sense that anything was amiss at first; he wasn't overly familiar with the streets of Sapporo, so it seemed like an honest mistake. When I informed him of this, however, he continued to ignore me. For several more kilometers, I repeatedly told him to turn around with increasing urgency in my voice. It was then that a horrible thought dawned on me. With each turn that he made, it became increasingly apparent to me that he had no intention of returning me to my apartment. He had no intention of allowing me to continue to live and work in Sapporo. He was putting an end to my career; I was going to live with him in Inaba.

When I came to this realization, I immediately began to panic. I tried to reason with him. I told him that I had learned the dangers of obsession and that it would never happen again. When that failed, I begged him to let me stay a detective in a most undignified fashion. It didn't matter what I said, however; my words still failed to reach him. It was not until we had reached the city limits that he finally acknowledged me, and he did so with the most vicious haranguing I had ever received in my life.

Never in my entire life had I seen Grampa as angry as he was as he gave me the scolding of a lifetime. His usual eloquence and composure had vanished utterly. He rained condemnation after condemnation upon me for being so unwise to put my health in jeopardy. Throughout his entire tirade, I wanted to interject. I wanted to defend myself from his attacks; nevertheless, I kept quiet. It was partially due to how shocked I was by Grampa's abrupt descent into a state of pure fury, but it was mostly a result of the guilt I was feeling. I had put him in that condition. The shakiness of his voice and the tears streaming down his face made it clear that his anger was born of worry, not hatred. His diatribe persisted for a remarkable three hours with only a few interruptions for him to catch his breath. Silence fell upon the car. I finally had the opportunity to say something, but his verbal onslaught had left me so stunned that I was unable to articulate a coherent response. The silence persisted for about five minutes before he let out a deep sigh and spoke once again.

"It pains me very deeply to have to say this, but I grossly overestimated you. You're still too much of a child to be a detective," said Grampa.

When he said those words, something snapped inside my mind. Those two sentences affected me more deeply than everything he had said about me up to that point combined. The guilt I felt disappeared instantly. I could no longer hold my tongue; the blind rage I felt would not permit me to do so. I launched into my own diatribe that was very much unlike his. Whereas his was a well-deserved admonition for my actions, mine was little more than a series of insults and attacks on his character. I had no real expectation that anything that I could've said would have changed his mind. I merely wanted to hurt him in the same way that he had hurt me. I grew increasingly strident as my rant progressed, but Grampa remained completely unfazed. Not a word managed to reach him. Hours passed, but I did not relent for a second. My voice had become so strained that my speech had degenerated into barely comprehensible squeaks by the time that we had reached Inaba. He pulled into the driveway of a large house and exited the car.

"The last room on the left is yours. There's food in the refrigerator. I'm going to bed," he said loudly, making eye contact for the first time in hours. Without another word, he entered the house, and I followed, continuing to rave at him. When he reached his room, he locked the door behind him. This did not deter me from continuing my polemic. I banged on his door continually as I hurled more and more verbal abuse, but it didn't matter how much noise I made; Grampa never responded. I persisted until my throat was so sore that I couldn't even manage to utter a single syllable. My right hand had several very visible bruises from the beating I had delivered to the door. I had completely exhausted myself. I had no option but to retire to the bedroom that Grampa had provided for me for the night.

When I awoke in the morning, I was supremely disappointed to find that the events of the previous day were not merely a bad dream; it was my new reality. I was no longer the Detective Prince; from that day forward, I was to be just another ordinary student. As I laid in bed, absorbing that information, my anger began to fade into a deep depression. In a vain attempt to salvage the situation, I dialed up what few people I considered dependable in the field of law enforcement, hoping that they could do something for me. I was not expecting them to be overly welcoming of me, but I did not expect to be greeted with as much scorn by the people that I called that day as I was. Every person I spoke to treated me with utter contempt. Most of the calls ended with my contact hanging up on me. It didn't take me long to figure out why. Grampa had got to them before I had. Even after his retirement, the name of Masaru Shirogane was held in the highest possible esteem. When he spoke, people listened, and he had used his influence to ensure that nobody in Japan would let me work again until he gave the go-ahead. It was official; there was nothing that I could do. After the last call had ended in failure, I returned to bed. It wasn't because I was tired. I had slept for over twelve consecutive hours. No, it was because in that moment I was unable to motivate myself to do anything other than stare at the ceiling as I wallowed in self-pity.

I had not eaten since breakfast of the prior day, so by seven o'clock, the hunger gnawing at me finally allowed me to summon the energy to leave my room. I was hoping to grab a small meal in the kitchen and make it back to my room as quickly as possible, but much to my chagrin, as soon as I entered the dining room, I was met with the sight of Grampa sitting at the table. As soon as he heard me enter, he looked up from his dinner.

"Hello, Naoto! It's nice to see you!" he said with a wide smile on his face. My first instinct was to assume that he was mocking me, but there was no smugness or sarcasm in his voice. He was being entirely sincere. He was genuinely pleased to see me. As far as he was concerned, our argument was over and done with. There was nothing left to discuss. He was moving on. In less than twenty-four hours, he had successfully managed to put all of that unpleasantness behind him. I, however, was not able to handle the situation quite as gracefully as he had. I ignored his words and averted my gaze from him. Grampa did not seem especially bothered by this.

"I was worried that you'd never get up, but I can understand why you'd be tired. Anyway, dinner's in the kitchen. I made your favorite," he said cheerfully. I wanted nothing more than to turn my back and leave, but the growling in my stomach would not permit me to do so. Grudgingly, I grabbed a plate of food and sat at the table to eat. I made sure to keep looking away from Grampa.

"It's still warm outside. You should take a walk. Get acquainted with the town. Inaba's a nice place. I'm sure you'll be very happy here," he said. I looked up and gave him the most disdainful glare that I could muster. After a few seconds, Grampa frowned and sighed deeply.

"I know that you're upset, but surely you can understand why I did what I did," he said. To be entirely honest, I did understand. It was only natural for him to be protective of his last living family; however, I simply could not accept it. I had the choice of either hating myself for my mistakes or hating Grampa for his response to them, and the latter was much easier for me than the former. After a brief period of silence, Grampa spoke again.

"Very well. I can see that you don't wish to speak with me right now," he said. He was no doubt thinking that eventually I would come around. He was thinking that I'd move on if given enough time. I was too stubborn to allow that to happen, however.

The ensuing days followed a predictable pattern. I would spend most of my time locked away in my room sulking. Whenever I left my room, I did everything I could to avoid Grampa. Whenever we did meet, he would try to converse in an attempt to get through to me. He repeatedly offered to show me around Inaba. I would have none of it. In the rare occasions that I actually talked to him, I used as few words as possible and deliberately spoke in a bored, disinterested tone of voice, and I refused to leave the house for any reason. I was incredibly bitter, and I wanted to make that clear to him. It was petty. It was stupid. The whole time, my logical side kept telling me that I was accomplishing nothing and that I should just let it go, and my conscience constantly screamed at me, telling me that I should be ashamed of how coldly I was acting toward the man who had treated me with nothing but kindness for my entire life. In spite of this, I kept at it. I thought that by hurting him, it would make me feel better, despite all evidence to the contrary. Through it all, Grampa had been incredibly patient with me. Though his granddaughter's distance wounded him, he kept trying to reach out to me. Of course, even Grampa's patience has its limits, and those limits were exceeded on the eleventh of April, a full month after I had begun living with him again.

"Are you excited about starting high school?" he asked enthusiastically.

"Not really," I replied, still gazing out the window of the dining room.

"How's the coffee? I've been experimenting with Catimor beans lately. Would you say that it's better than the usual stuff?" he asked.

"It is acceptable," I said.

"You know, you should probably check out Yasogami High today. I'd be happy to drive you there," he said.

"I'll pass," I said. Grampa didn't say anything more for quite a while. I was almost finished with my food when I heard the sound of glass breaking. I looked over at Grampa and discovered that he had set his cup down on the table with so much force that it had shattered upon impact. I can't say whether it was intentional or not. Grampa looked furious, and it wasn't because of the broken glass or spilled coffee around him.

"For God's sake, Naoto, how long do you plan on acting like I child?" he asked, raising his voice at me for the first time in a month. His outburst had caught me completely off guard. He had finally snapped.

"This tantrum of yours has gone on for a month now; wouldn't you say that that's just a tiny bit excessive?" he said tauntingly. Once again, I felt rage begin to boil up inside of me. I opened my mouth to deliver a retort, but he continued onward.

"You're almost an adult, but you're acting like an immature brat who had their toys taken away! It's becoming very clear to me that I made the right decision last month!" he said. "I'm curious, Naoto. What makes you think that this sort of behavior is appropriate for someone your age?"

Whatever words I had for him had escaped me. I wanted so badly to say something, but his words had left me in such a state that my brain was unable to devise any sort of salient response.

"What are you hoping to accomplish? Do you really believe that if you pout for long enough that..." he began before I cut him off.

"I'm going for a walk," I said, trying and failing miserably to keep my voice from shaking. I ran from the room, through the hallway, and out the door, slamming it behind me. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me until Grampa's house was well outside of my field of vision. From that point, I began to walk quickly down the sidewalk. I didn't know where I was going to go, and I paid very little attention to my surroundings. The only thing I was focused on was devising some sort of comeback to give to Grampa the next time I saw him. I was angrily muttering all the words that came to my mind under my breath. The people who saw me that day must have thought that I was a violent lunatic. Eventually, I had stumbled my way into the town's shrine without intention. By this point, my legs were so weary from the laps I had done around the town that they could no longer support me. I sat on the ground beside the offering box. My mind began to clear. There was no one around. Nobody could hear or see me, so I did something that I had been holding back for a long, long time.

I cried.

It was the most embarrassing thing possible for me. I was ashamed to do it even in front of Grampa. It was a sign of weakness, and I had sworn to myself years prior that I would never, never show weakness, for I could not afford to, but I could not bottle it up any longer. Deep down, I knew that every accusation that Grampa had leveled at me was true. I  _was_  acting like a petulant child. I  _was_  the only one to blame for my situation, and I hated it. I did not move from my position for some time. I refused to let anyone see me in that condition. I was eventually able to compose myself and stood up. I hoped that if I kept my head down, nobody would notice how red my face was. As I walked away from the shrine, I noticed someone approaching, and the events of the day immediately left my mind.

He was a boy of about my age. His gray hair and eyes were immediately recognizable, but I still would not let myself believe it. I tried to convince myself that he was just an eerily similar stranger and that it was just a case of mistaken identity. As the seconds wore on, however, it became increasingly clear who I was facing. He was evidently just as astonished as I was. We stood there in total silence for quite a while. I wanted to say something but could not find the right words. What should you say to someone who you haven't seen in seven years? I was hoping that he'd be the first to speak, but from the looks of it, he was hoping that I would speak first. It took a while, but he was finally able to break the silence.

"Hi Naoto," he said.

"Hi Yu," I said, stuttering, "It's good to see you again."

"It's nice to see you too," he said. He looked like he wanted to say something else before we were interrupted.

"Hey, where'd you run off to?" cried out a male voice in the distance. Yu looked away and then back to me.

"I have to go now," he said, before pulling out his cell phone from his pocket, "Do you mind if I have your number?"

"Sure, sure!" I said, still stuttering. I pulled out my phone. My hands were shaking so badly that I nearly dropped it. After we exchanged numbers, here merely nodded his head and walked away. For several minutes, I just stood in place, looking at my phone. I still had quite a bit of difficulty swallowing what had just taken place at the shrine. I wanted to call him right then just to confirm that it wasn't just some extremely lucid dream or hallucination. I rehearsed what I wanted to say over and over and over again, but I could not bring myself to make the call. After several failed attempts at summoning the courage to call Yu, I slipped the phone back into my pocket and started walking again. I began walking in the direction of Grampa's house, but as soon as I realized what I was doing I turned around. I knew that the most appropriate course of action from both a logical and moral point of view for someone in my situation would be to rush home and start begging Grampa for forgiveness; however, I still could not quash the feelings of anger and resentment I felt toward Grampa. I needed to give myself time to cool off. Since I had to get acquainted with the town if for no other reason than to find my way to and from school, I decided that that time would be best spent familiarizing myself with the area.

Despite living in Inaba for a month I had never seen any of it beyond Grampa's house. As I took in the sights and the atmosphere, I began to regret my self-imposed seclusion. Grampa was not lying about Inaba being a nice place. The peace and quiet that was utterly absent in big cities was abundant here. Upon arrival, I viewed Inaba as a prison, but after taking the time to actually experience it, I felt freer than I had in a long, long time.

When night fell, I began the trek back home dreading what was ahead. No matter how much I wanted to delay a meeting with Grampa, I had to return sooner or later. I did not know what I would say to Grampa. I did not even know if there was anything that I could say. I mentally prepared myself for whatever punishment he deemed appropriate for me. Curiously, when I arrived at the house, I found a note taped to the door.

"I'm deeply sorry that I lashed out at you today. It was totally uncalled for. I can understand if you don't want to see me. Just leave a note saying that you're okay. I'm going to bed. Dinner's in the refrigerator. I love you," read the note. It filled me with deep guilt that he was apologizing to me while I was still unwilling to face him. After eating dinner, I grabbed a pen and a notepad and tried to compose a suitable apology to Grampa, but I couldn't find the proper words. I tried over and over to write the note, but before I could even complete a single sentence, I tore the piece of paper from the notepad and threw it in the trash. It sounds like such an easy thing, but in that moment, I simply could not bring myself to do it. Once my pen began to run out of ink, I settled for a simple "I'm home." I decided that it would be best if I avoided the matter until I was fully prepared to deal with it. I slipped the note under his door and headed to my room.

Even though I was extremely tired, I could not fall asleep that night. Thoughts of the day's happenings kept buzzing around in my head, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not suppress them. First, there was the matter of what I would say to Grampa. I'd have to speak with him eventually, and I couldn't just pretend that nothing had happened. Second, after seven years of no interaction whatsoever, Yu had made his way back into my life with no warning. I wanted to talk to him, and he ostensibly wanted to talk to me, but it seemed as though neither of us wanted to make the first move.

"Today could have gone better," was the last thought that entered my mind before I was finally able to drift off to sleep.


	3. Chapter Three

" _We were made for God. Only by being in some respect like Him, only by being a manifestation of His beauty, loving kindness, wisdom or goodness, has any earthly Beloved excited our love."_

 _—_  C.S. Lewis,  _The Four Loves_

* * *

**Chapter Three: Reminiscing/Rekindling**

**Yu**

* * *

**25 May 2008**

It was Sunday, and I was very bored. Normally, I can entertain myself fairly well, but on that evening, I was struck by a severe case of anhedonia for no apparent reason. I recalled reading in the newspaper that morning that a local hospital wanted donations of paper cranes. I had nothing better to do, so I thought that I might as well spend my time doing something constructive. I sat at my desk folding crane after crane after crane after crane. The television behind me was still on from when I had been watching the news earlier, and I couldn't be bothered to walk across the room to turn it off, so I just kept it on for a bit of background noise.

"In other news, the Hokkaido Prefectural Police Department is reporting that the Kirigami Murderer's killing spree that claimed the lives of eight children in Sapporo over the last two years has been put to an end. The culprit, forty-four-year-old American immigrant Scottie Selby, was identified and apprehended earlier today thanks to the assistance of the latest addition to Sapporo's team of detectives. Here's Juurou Nakahara with the details," said the anchorman.

"Thank you, Fujita. I'm here with Detective Naoto Shirogane," said the reporter. I dropped the crane I was working on immediately and spun around in my chair to face the television. Naoto Shirogane. It was a name that I hadn't heard in four years. I couldn't believe it, but on the screen, I saw her standing adjacent to an overexcited reporter. She had cut her hair at some point since I had last saw her and was dressing as a boy, but there was no question about it; my one and only friend from Tatsumi Port Island was being interviewed on national television.

"So, tell us a little about yourself, Mister Shirogane. You're only thirteen, but you're already detective! Could you tell the viewers at home how that happened?" said the reporter. Naoto looked somewhat irritated that he was asking her personal questions when he was supposed to be discussing the details of the case. Truthfully, I was just as awed as the reporter. I never doubted for a single moment that Naoto would one day achieve her dream of becoming a detective, but I never imagined that she'd do it while in middle school. Of course, I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that someone with her brilliance and level of passion would find some way to make it happen. There was, however, one tiny detail that was nagging at me.

"Mister?" I thought to myself. I found it a bit odd that the reporter would make such a mistake. I suppose that in her attire, she could conceivably be mistaken as male on first glance, but I had to wonder why no one, not even Naoto herself, bothered to set the record straight.

The reporter continued on for several minutes talking about her and asking her questions that had nothing to do with the case she had solved. Whenever Naoto tried to interject, the reporter just continued talking over her, only making her more peeved. This was compounded by the fact that the journalist seemed to be moving closer and closer into her personal space.

After a very short while, it became virtually impossible for me to focus on the reporter more or less have a conversation with himself. The sight of Naoto triggered a cascade of memories of joy-filled days spent with her in Port Island. Days spent at the shrine, at the bookstore, at the mall, and at her house that brought happiness to my boring childhood. Days the like of which I would most likely never know again. I'm not quite sure how long I spent in that state of wistfulness and gloom, but when I did eventually return to reality, I immediately walked across the room and turned off the television, cutting Naoto off once she had finally been granted the opportunity to talk about the case. I returned to my desk and folded more cranes. I pushed all my thoughts of Naoto out of my mind.

"There's no sense in dwelling on it. She's probably forgotten all about me," I thought to myself.

* * *

**11 April 2011**

"Hey! Are you sure you're okay?" said Dojima with deep concern in his voice, catching my attention.

"Huh? Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just a little headache, that's all," I said. I had a sneaking suspicion that Dojima didn't believe me, and he was right to doubt me. I had just brazenly lied to his face. The fact of the matter is that I wasn't feeling fine; I still felt absolutely miserable. My body still ached to its very core and I was struggling not to vomit all over the interior of his car.

"You've been out of it since we left the gas station. If you need me to take you to the hospital, I'll do it," said Dojima. For possibly the first time in my life, a trip to the hospital actually sounded very appealing to me, but I didn't want to burden the Dojimas on the very first day of my stay with them.

"It's just that I have a lot on my mind right now," I said. That actually wasn't a lie. First, there was the issue of what had happened at the shrine. By some chance, I had found myself in the same place as Naoto for the first time in seven years. It's a well-established fact in psychology that the human mind is incapable of accurately predicting how one will emotionally react in scenarios that have yet to transpire. When I left Port Island, I never expected to ever see Naoto again, but on boring nights when I couldn't fall asleep, my mind would tend to wander, and on two or three occasions, I found my tired brain conjuring fantasies of a reunion with Naoto. In these brief flights of fancy, I was always in a state of bliss, but when my wishes had finally been made real, that certainly was not how I was feeling. A small part of was the fact that the unexpectedness of it all had caught me off guard. I suppose if one's greatest desire had been fulfilled with no warning after seven years of fruitless longing, the shock of it all would take a bit of the magic out of the moment. The primary reason for my inability to enjoy our reunion, however, was Naoto herself. She was putting on her best show of being calm and collected, but it was painfully obvious that she was distressed. No, distressed isn't a strong enough word. She looked positively devastated. The puffiness of her eyes and redness of her face made it clear that she had just been crying and it looked like she could burst back into tears again at any moment. I had only seen her in such a state once before when she nearly was nine and I had just recently turned ten. I wanted so badly to do or say something to comfort her or at the very least ask what was troubling her so, but Dojima interrupted us before I had a chance to do so, so the issue was nagging at me incessantly.

"Like what? Do you want to talk about it?" asked Dojima, concerned.

"Maybe later. It's not important right now," I said. As nice as he may be, I strongly doubted that Dojima could have done anything to remedy the situation. Dojima looked mildly upset for a short moment but moved past it the instant a small, brown house nestled on a quiet street came into view.

"We're here!" said Dojima after he parked in front of the house. I exited the vehicle and took a nice, long look at what would my be home for the coming year. It looked simple. I do not mean that as an insult. Massive apartment complexes were all I had ever known, and the Dojimas' residence was so radically different that I just had to take a moment to appreciate it. Dojima walked up to the front door and slid it open. Nanako quietly got out of the car and slipped inside the house.

"Hey, do you need me to show you to your room?" asked Dojima.

"Yes, that would be great," I said. The two of us entered the house, immediately turned right, and ascended a set of stairs. At the top was a narrow hallway with two rooms on each side. The first room on the right was very evidently Dojima's room, and loath as I am to cast aspersions on someone as kind as Dojima, I must say that the condition of his room deeply irritated me. The door was flung wide open and on the inside, there was an unmade bed and all manner of dirty clothes and trash strewn about the floor. I could barely stand to look at it. The second door on the right was closed, but the pink decorations adorning it made it fairly clear that the room behind it belonged to Nanako. The first room on the left was the bathroom. Dojima approached the second door on the left and swung it open.

"This here's yours. When you get your stuff put away, come downstairs. We have a surprise for you," said Dojima before he walked back towards the stairs. I entered and examined the features of my room. It had a metal shelf directly adjacent to the door, an old CRT television, dresser, a desk, a wardrobe closet, a futon against the back wall, a small couch, and a work table. The couch and the coffee table were littered with several small cardboard boxes, sealed up with duct tape. They were my personal effects that I had shipped to the Dojima residence a few days earlier. I didn't want to clutter up their house, so I only sent the bare minimum of what I would need for the coming year. Though the boxes were few in number, the sight of them just laying about bothered me. Under normal circumstances, I would want to unpack my things and get them sorted and put away properly as quickly as possible, but in that moment, I simply couldn't summon the energy to do it. I laid my bag on the floor and headed back towards the stairs, swearing to myself that I would get my room straightened out before I went to bed that night. Once I reached the bottom of the stairs I was greeted by the sight of Dojima and Nanako sitting on the floor around a short, square table in the living area.

"Hey, come on! We got you something special for dinner. Help yourself to any drink in the fridge," said Dojima.

"Ah, sure. Thanks," I said. I took a bottle of water from the refrigerator but not before taking a second to examine the kitchen. All sorts of household items were placed upon the table, preventing them from using it. The cooking area, however, was immaculate. It looked like it was almost never used. I sat with the Dojimas after getting my beverage. Dojima popped the tab of his soda.

"All right, let's have a toast," said Dojima. He raised his drink in the air. Nanako and I imitated this gesture. "So, picking up where left off, your mom and dad are busy as always? They're working overseas, was it?"

"Yes. San Francisco," I said. Dojima nodded in acknowledgment.

"I see. I know it's only for a year, but getting stuck in a place like this because of your parents...It's rough being a kid," said Dojima. It was ever so slight, but there was something about his inflection when he said that. He wasn't just speaking in platitudes; he actually seemed to understand. "Well, it's just me and Nanako here, so it'll be nice having someone like you around. So long as you're here, you're part of the family, so make yourself at home."

I should note right now that I am horrible at expressing my feelings in a social setting. When I get emotional, I can have a tendency to display it with excessive fervor. I learned from a very early age that this is generally not acceptable in polite society, so I taught myself to consciously tone it down when I was around others. This, however, generated a different problem; I often found myself sounding impassive and detached when I didn't mean to. Why do I bring this up? Well, with his words Dojima stirred up something inside me. I understand that to most, it sounds so trivial, but to me, being told that I had a family who would be there for me affected me on a deeply personal level. It was the most touching thing I had heard in a very, very long time. That is until I managed to ruin the whole moment.

"Thank you for your kindness," I said. I had said it so stiffly; it was as if I were in the middle of a business meeting. As soon as those words left my mouth, I deeply regretted them. I immediately wanted to apologize to Dojima and Nanako for subjecting them to that painful degree of sheer awkwardness. Dojima smiled, highly entertained by my show of social ineptitude.

"C'mon, there's no need to be so formal. Look, you're making Nanako all tense!" said Dojima in a mock-serious tone of voice, pointing at his daughter with his chopsticks. Nanako seemed anxious since I met her at the train station, but after Dojima had singled her out, her uneasiness visibly increased, and she diverted her gaze from the both of us.

"Oh. Yes, I see. Noted," I said, embarrassed. Dojima gave me a look of fake disapproval as he struggled not to burst out laughing.

"Well, anyway, let's eat," said Dojima. Before Dojima could pick up a single piece of sushi, a loud ringing came from his pocket.

"Ugh, who's calling at this hour?" said Dojima. He pulled out his phone.

"Dojima speaking...Yeah? I see. So where is it? All right I'm on my way," he said. He put the phone back in his pocket and let out a deep sigh.

"Looks like I made the right choice to skip the booze," Dojima said quietly. He stood up from the table.

"Sorry, but I gotta go take care of some business. Go ahead and eat without me," said Dojima. He looked over to Nanako. "I don't know how late I'll be. Nanako, you help him out, okay?"

"...Okay," said Nanako disappointedly. Dojima made his way towards toward the door and slid it open. A soft pitter-patter could be heard coming from outside.

"Nanako, it's raining out. What did you do with the laundry?" shouted Dojima.

"I already brought it in!" Nanako shouted back.

"All right. Well, I'm off," said Dojima as he walked outside. The door slid shut. Nanako and I sat in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds before she switched on the television.

"...for this week. Next, let's take a look at the hourly breakdown of tomorrow's weather," said the announcer. "With storm clouds moving in from the west, expect rain throughout the day tomorrow in most areas."

"Let's eat," said Nanako. She seemed content to let the meal continue in silence, but I couldn't keep quiet. Nanako's tone of voice and expression when Dojima announced that he was heading out made it apparent that this wasn't an anomaly; this was a regular occurrence. I knew what it was like to be a kid whose family was chronically absent. If I were in her position, I would want someone to tell me that they understand. I would want someone to tell me that they could empathize.

"It must be tough," I said. Nanako sighed; she knew exactly what I meant by that.

"It's always like this," said Nanako.

"My parents were always gone a lot, too," I said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about?" asked Nanako. Nanako wasn't as nearly as intimidated by me as she was earlier, but she wasn't exactly comfortable around me quite yet. Still, I would be remiss if I didn't at least try to reach out to her.

"Do you ever get lonely?" I asked.

"No. I'm used to it," said Nanako. She tensed up when she said that. Nanako was not a very good liar. It hurt me very deeply to see how her father's absence affected her, but Nanako did not want to open up to me. What does one do in such a situation?

"Well, if you ever want to talk, I'll be here for you, okay?" I said.

"Okay," Nanako said disinterestedly. She looked back down at her food as if to quietly tell me that she didn't want to speak with me any longer. I didn't really have any choice but to respect her wishes. I looked down at my food. It was very fine sushi; Dojima did not spare any expense in preparing for my welcome. It was really a pity that the ailment that I had contracted earlier made it difficult for me to fully enjoy it.

"...and now for the local news. City council secretary Taro Namatame is under fire for an alleged relationship with a female reporter. His wife, enka ballad sensation Misuzu Hiiragi, revealed to this station she will likely pursue damages. In response, Eye Television had decided to cancel all of announcer Mayumi Yamano's televised appearances. Until allegations of an affair with Mister Namatame are resolved, she'll remain off the air and out of the public eye," said the television announcer. Namatame's affair was fairly tame as far as political scandals go, but it had been getting coverage for days. It must have been a slow news week.

"This is boring," said Nanako before switching the channel.

"At Junes, every day is Customer Appreciation Day. Come see for yourself, and get in touch with our products!" said the women in the commercial. It was that commercial for Junes Department Store that I detested so much. It wasn't so much the quality of the commercial that drew my disdain as much as it was how often it aired. I probably saw the commercial at least five times per day. On top of that, Junes had been using that same commercial since early 2003. Needless to say, it became very stale very quickly.

"Every day's great at your Junes!" played the chain's signature jingle. Nanako seemed to perk up immediately.

"Every day's great at your Junes!" sang Nanako back to the television with a wide smile on her face. It was the first time I had seen her happy all day. I thought that I might as well play along.

"Every day's great at your Junes!" I sang. Nanako turned towards me and laughed. I mentally gave myself a small pat on the back for being able to brighten her evening, but something in front of me caught her eye that put a damper on her good mood.

"Aren't you going to eat?" asked Nanako. I hadn't touched my sushi out of fear of making myself sicker than I already was, but I did not want to insult the Dojimas' hospitality.

"Oh! Yes! Of course!" I said. I picked up a piece of sushi and popped it into my mouth. It certainly wasn't the first time that I placed politeness over common sense, but it definitely carried some of the worst consequences. The food actually tasted pretty good, but the moment it hit my stomach, the churning in my digestive system intensified. Against my better judgment, I ate it all, however. It was a laborious task, but I managed to keep it all down. Nanako was so engrossed in the quiz show on television that she didn't notice the unusual degree of difficulty I had eating. Between the day's travel and my painful experience at the table, I was spent. I quietly excused myself from the table and headed for my room. I was planning on getting my things unpacked and going to bed immediately, but as I put my hand on the doorknob, something reentered my mind: Naoto's phone number. A powerful wave of excitement came over me. I swung open my door and shut it behind me. I was alone. Nobody was going to interrupt me. This was my chance. This was my chance to reconnect with my best friend in the world. This was my chance to finally have someone to talk to again. After seven years apart, the girl who brought me more happiness than anyone or anything in the world was just a phone call away. I pulled my phone from my pocket.

I then proceeded to stare at the phone and do absolutely nothing else with it for well over a minute.

As soon as I took my phone out, my rush wore off. My giddiness was replaced with replaced with great nervousness and fear. There was this pestering notion lingering in my psyche that made me wonder that if I called, I would discover that she no longer had any desire for my companionship. Seven years is a long time. Could she have decided that I was no longer of interest to her during that time? I was being paranoid. My fear was irrational. I knew this even at the time. I knew Naoto. She was not the sort of person who would discard an old friend. No matter how many times I told myself that, however, I could not shake my anxiety. I put the phone away and started unpacking. I hoped that the act of organizing my room would calm my nerves. As I packed, I mentally rehearsed. I didn't want to sound like a babbling idiot when I made the call.

With each box I emptied, I got more and more frustrated. I was not satisfied with any of the words my mind had conjured. I wanted to say something that adequately communicated to her what a pleasure it was to finally see her again, but everything that I came up with made it sound like I was giving an oral report before a classroom. Once all my things were put in their proper places, I was left pacing around my room trying and struggling to construct a suitably heartfelt introduction for myself. I glanced over at the clock. It was fifteen minutes until ten. I couldn't keep putting it off. If I didn't make the call soon, I wouldn't get a chance to that night. I pulled my phone back out and resolved to do what I should have done from the beginning: just call her and talk like a normal person. I had just entered the fourth number into my phone when another concern entered my mind.

"Should I ask why she was crying earlier?" I pondered. I had a moral obligation to, did I not? If Naoto of all people had wept openly, something must be horribly, horribly wrong. She would want someone to confide in. She would do the same for me if the roles were reversed. On the other hand, she might not want to talk about it right away. It would be more appropriate to give whatever wound she had suffered time to heal first, right? After a good fifteen minutes of debating with myself over what should have been a very, very simple matter, I put the phone on the dresser and turned off the lights. I would call tomorrow first thing after school with no more delays or excuses. I laid down on the futon. I lost consciousness shortly after my head hit the pillow.

* * *

I found myself running at breakneck pace with a sword gripped tightly in both of my hands. The fog was so dense and the lighting was so dim that I could hardly anything beyond a couple of meters in front of my face. The floor beneath me seemed to be floating atop a sea of mist. I was seeking something. There was something waiting at the end of the path. Something evil. Something that I knew that I must destroy.

"Do you seek the truth?" said someone in the distance. A surge of adrenaline coursed through me. I was so close. My foe was finally within my grasp.

"If it's truth you desire, come and find me!" said the voice tauntingly. I was right on the brink. My journey was coming to an end. A red door appeared before me. My mouth curled into a wicked smile. The moment of my triumph was at hand. I stopped for the first time. The door began cracking open ever so slowly. I braced myself for the showdown that would take place on the other side. Once the door had opened fully, I spotted a faint silhouette straight ahead. This was it. I charged at my enemy, my sword raised high in the air.

"So, you are the one pursuing me? Hm. Try all you wish," said the creature in a mildly amused voice, completely unfazed by the attack that was coming its way. I brought my blade down with all my might. The creature made no attempt to block or dodge the blow. For a fraction of a second, I was delighted. The evil plaguing the world would be no more. Much to my astonishment, however, the creature was not even the slightest bit hurt by my sword. As slash that could cleave a steel beam in twain had no more impact on my opponent that a gentle breeze.

"Hm. It seems that you can see a little, despite the fog," said the creature. Not deterred by my initial failure, I struck it again, but it was of no use.

"I see. Indeed. That is very interesting information," said the creature. I attacked it again and again and again and again, but I could not spill a single drop of its blood.

"But you will not catch me so easily. If what you seek is 'truth,' your search will be even harder," said the creature. The fog in the room grew thicker, and my target was no longer visible. I was not daunted. I swung wildly at the air, hoping in vain that my blows would eventually hit their mark.

"Everyone sees what they want, and the fog only deepens," said the creature. With each miss, I could see less and less. I could not allow it to end this way! I had come too far to fail!

"Will we meet again at a place other than here? Hm. I look forward to it," said the creature, laughing. Everything was completely white. I dropped to my knees; I had expended the last bit of energy I had within me. My mission had come to an end. My foe had won utterly. All was lost. White slowly began to fade into black, and my senses fled me.

* * *

**12 April 2011**

My eyes fluttered open, and to my eternal shock, even though I had just woken from one of the most vivid nightmares of my entire life, I actually felt good. Well, I felt good in a relative sense. The aching of my muscles was gone. My stomach no longer tormented me. I had totally recovered from the previous day's acute sickness. There was, unfortunately, one exception: my headache. Good God, my headache had grown even more powerful over the night. I felt like how Zeus must have felt while Athena was inhabiting his skull. I got up and made my way to the bathroom. After rifling through the medicine cabinet, I found a small bottle of painkillers. The label said to take no more than two capsules at a time. I took four. As I went about my morning routine, I kept waiting for the pills to take effect. They never did. I had just finished dressing when I heard a voice come from downstairs.

"Breakfast's ready!" shouted Nanako. I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs. When I reached the bottom, I saw Nanako sitting at the dining table. Dojima was nowhere to be seen. Nanako had cleared enough stuff from the dining table to make room for two people to eat at it. I sat down across from her.

"Thank you very much for the food," I said. I took a few bites. The eggs were a little overcooked and the toast was slightly burnt, but the home-cooked breakfast was still a welcome surprise.

"You're welcome," said Nanako.

"Do you do the cooking often?" I asked.

"Just breakfast. I can toast bread and cook sunny-side up eggs," said Nanako.

"I see. Does your father handle dinner?" I asked.

"Nah. Dad can't cook. We buy dinner," said Nanako. An idea hatched in my brain. I knew how to cook; it was a necessary skill for living alone. I made a mental note to pick up some groceries on the way home from school so that I could prepare a proper meal for the Dojimas this evening as a small gesture of my gratitude.

"You're starting school today, right?" asked Nanako.

"Right," I said.

"You're going to Yasogami, right?" asked Nanako.

"That's correct," I said. Nanako smiled.

"My school's on the way; can we go together?" asked Nanako. I found it a tad strange that Nanako had managed to overcome her shyness around me so swiftly, but it gladdened me all the same.

"Sure thing!" I said. After finishing breakfast, we both grabbed our umbrellas and headed out the door.

"So, when will your father be home?" I asked, stepping over a large puddle. I wanted a good idea of when I should start the night's dinner.

"Who knows?" said Nanako. Any mention of her father's work schedule seemed to upset Nanako. It would be best to avoid the subject entirely. While I was happy that Nanako was opening up to me, I struggled to think of things to say.

"So, does it always rain like this?" I asked. When I was a kid, I always found discussions about the weather to be the height of banality. I still do, but I cannot deny their usefulness in avoiding uncomfortable silences.

"Sometimes. It's worst in the summer," said Nanako. Our idle chatter continued for a few more minutes until we approached a fork in the road. Nanako stopped.

"From here, just keep going straight. My school's this way. See you," said Nanako before leaving me without another word. I watched her for a few seconds before continuing towards Yasogami High. It was the most pleasant walk that I had had in a long, long time. I know that I have already commented on the matter and that there's little point in delving deeper and deeper into the same subject, but I cannot even begin to describe how superior Inaba was to the places that I had lived in earlier. I didn't have to take multiple subways to get to school; I could get there on foot in under thirty minutes. The path was not crowded with hundreds of people; there were just a few students trying to make their way to school. My ears were not bombarded with thousands of different noises every second; I could actually hear myself think. Yes, Inaba was better than I ever could've imagined.

It was not until I had reached the intersection in front of the school that the perfect quiet that I was enjoying was disturbed. A horrible squeaking came from behind me. It started out low, but it got louder and louder with each passing second. I turned around. A brown-haired student in a Yasogami High uniform was riding a yellow bicycle irresponsibly fast down the street. It was very obvious that he was having great difficulty controlling his bike. This was partially due to the terrible condition his bike seemed to be in and partially due to the fact that he was steering with one hand and holding his umbrella with the other. He was accelerating towards me at an alarming rate. I stepped out of the way. I managed to avoid injury, but the boy on the bike wasn't quite as lucky. Shortly after passing me, the boy's bike made a sharp right straight into a telephone pole. The boy's head made direct contact with the pole, and both he and his bike fell to the ground with a loud thud. I leaned over him.

"Are you okay?" I asked concernedly. The boy's eyes opened halfway. He tried to speak, but his vocal cords only produced gibberish. The bruise on his head looked quite painful. He needed help. I tucked both my umbrella and his away and lifted him up into a standing position, letting him lean on my right shoulder for support. I set his bike in its upright position and guided it with my left hand. Between the boy's trouble walking and the difficulty of getting the bike to move in a straight line, my pace was slowed considerably, but I still had more than enough time. I got some very odd looks from the other students passing by, but I paid them no mind.

When I got to the school, I parked the bike with all the others and promptly headed towards the nurse's office. No one was inside. I gently laid the boy on the observation table. Hopefully, someone would be with him shortly. He turned towards me and said something unintelligible.

"Whatever you say, buddy," I said, placing his umbrella beside the table. After exiting the nurse's office, I headed to the restroom and tried to my myself look presentable. I used some paper towels to dry my uniform and hair. I didn't want to introduce myself before the class while soaked in rainwater. By the time had come to arrive at the faculty office, I had managed to make myself look significantly better, but I was still visibly damp. With a sigh, I exited the restroom.

The faculty office was abuzz with activity; all sorts of teachers were making their final preparations before they had to head off to class. I was looking for Mister Morooka, my homeroom teacher for the year. I turned to the nearest person in the room, a man in a blue pinstripe suit. He had his back turned to me. I cleared my throat in an attempt to get his attention and got no response.

"Excuse me, sir, I'm looking for Mister Morooka," I said, and I still got no response. I tapped him on his shoulder, and even though my touch was as light as possible, he jumped as if I had slammed him in the back with a hammer. He spun around and looked at me with pure rage. He was second only to Igor in terms of bizarre-looking men. He had an overbite so pronounced that it bordered on facial deformity. His crooked, slightly yellow front teeth were on full display.

"Touch me like that again, and I'll call the police!" he screamed. I was taken aback by his overreaction.

"Well? What do you got to say? Spit it out!" he said angrily. He was causing quite a scene, but none of the other faculty members seemed to notice nor care. It was as if they were used to the man exploding on others.

"I'm looking for Mister Morooka," I said nervously.

"That'd be me. And who exactly are you?" asked Mister Morooka.

"My name is Yu Narukami. I'm the transfer student," I said. Mister Morooka scowled.

"Oh. You. The city boy. Have you come to complain about how plain our school is to your old one?" Mister Morooka asked sarcastically.

"Do our simple ways displease you? How can we ever possibly apologize for our insult to His Royal Majesty?" said Mister Morooka. It was becoming increasingly irksome having to listen to this man level attacks at me while he refused to let me get a word in edgewise.

"Mister Morooka, I-" I said loudly, trying to steer the conversation on-topic, but Mister Morooka would have none of it.

"Don't you interrupt me, boy!" said Mister Morooka. He had said it so loudly that there was no way that anyone in the office could have missed it, but nobody paid any mind to his outburst. I briefly made eye contact with one of the younger faculty members.

"I am so sorry," she mouthed at me. Mister Morooka's rant went on for another two minutes before someone finally stepped in.

"Kinshiro, class is about to start," said one of the last teachers left in the office. I'm not quite certain how I managed to miss her; she was wearing a pharaoh's headdress, for goodness sake! Mister Morooka looked over to her then back to me

"Follow me," said Mister Morooka. During the short walk from the faculty office to class 2-2, Mister Morooka was utterly silent, and let me tell you that it was the most pleasing silence that I have ever experienced in my entire life. Mister Morooka slid open the door to the class with unnecessary force, and I followed him in.

"Alright, shut your traps!" said Mister Morooka to the students. The clamor of the classroom died in an instant.

"I'm Kinshiro Morooko, your homeroom teacher from today forward! First things first! Just cause it's spring doesn't mean you can swoon over each other like love-struck baboons. Long as I'm around, you students are gonna be pure as the driven snow!" said Mister Morooka. Judging by the looks on my classmates' faces, I wasn't the only one who found his sanctimoniousness to be grating.

"Now, I hate wasting my time, but I'd better introduce this transfer student," said Mister Morooka, gesturing over to me. "This sad sack's been thrown from the big city out to the middle of nowhere like yesterday's garbage, and he's just as much of a loser here as he was there, so you girls better get any ideas about hitting on him! Tell 'em your name, kid, and make it quick."

It was rare indeed for me to show open disrespect for someone. It was even rarer for me to do it in front of a captive audience. Even around truly unpleasant people, I could always find some way of restraining myself. Mister Morooka, however, got under my skin like no other person had ever been able to. Between his gross unprofessionalism and contempt for his own students, I just couldn't tolerate the man. I turned towards him and made direct eye contact with him.

"Are you calling me a loser, sir?" I said with as much venom as I could muster. I cannot even begin to describe how cathartic it felt. The class looked at me in total awe; few people would ever dare to stand up to Mister Morooka. The look on Mister Mooroka's face was absolutely priceless in that moment. His face turned a shade of red that I didn't think was possible for humans and his eyes widened as far as they physically could. He was trying to look intimidating but ended up looking beyond comical. I simply cannot do it justice with words. It took tremendous effort for me not to erupt into a fit of laughter.

"That's it! You're on my shit list, effective immediately!" said Mister Morooka. I simply could not bring myself to care. I got the sensation that I would have ended up on his shit list regardless of what I might have said.

"Now listen up! This town is miles away from your big city of perverts and assholes, in more ways than one! You better not even think of getting involved with the girls here, let alone abusing them!" said Mister Morooka.

"But what do I know? It's not the old days. Even here, kids grow up so damn fast. Every time I turn my back, you're fooling around on those damn phones, checking your life-journals and your my-places," said Mister Morooka. The man was like a living stereotype. Before he had a chance to continue his rant on the evils of modern society and the degeneracy of the youth of Japan, a brown-haired girl wearing a green cardigan raised her hand to speak.

"Excuse me! Is it okay if the transfer student sits here?" she said.

"Huh? Yeah, sure, whatever," said Mister Morooka. He turned back over to me.

"You hear that? Your seat's over there," said Mister Morooka, pointing to the vacant desk to the girl's left. Eager to get away from him, I quickly took my seat. As soon as Mister Morooka regained his train of thought, he continued his diatribe. The entire class, including myself, tuned him out rather quickly, but Mister Morooka was too engrossed in his own screed to notice that nobody was paying any attention to him. The brown-haired girl leaned over to speak to me.

"He's the worst, huh?" said the girl.

"Tell me about it," I said. I have had many, many terrible teachers in my academic life, and the only one who might have been worse than Mister Morooka was the gym teacher and volleyball coach at my old school.

"Rotten luck for to get stuck in this class," said the girl.

"Is he always like this?" I asked.

"Pretty much. Good thing we only have to hang in here for a year," said the girl. Other students began to talk quietly among themselves. Mister Morooka eventually got bored of lecturing us on the supposed moral decay of Japan, and finally decided to do his job as a teacher.

"Shut your traps! I'm taking roll, and I damn well expect you to respond in an orderly manner!" said Mister Morooka. The first day at Yasogami High would go on exactly as I expected it to: dreadfully boringly. I had nothing against the school; it actually seemed quite nice. It's just that the first day of the school year was always the most tiresome of them all. I rarely found class engaging, but at every school of I ever attended, the first day never contained anything of substance. Normally, I pretended to be interested in what teachers were saying as a courtesy, but Mister Morooka already hated me, so I didn't bother that day. The monotony was broken up a little when the boy on the bike returned from the nurse's office with a large bandage on his forehead, prompting Mr. Morooka to stray off-topic to castigate him for his tardiness and lament the lack of regard for punctuality of teenagers. Despite being made an example of before the entire class, the boy seemed more weary than embarrassed, as if such things happened all the time. In short, the only good thing about class that day was that it ended at lunchtime as opposed to dragging out at full-length.

"That's all for today. Normal lectures start tomorrow," said Mister Morooka. Every student in the class was extremely happy to be done with Mister Morooka for the day, and everyone began rapidly gathering up their belongings, hoping to be out the door as soon as possible. Of course, it wouldn't be quite that simple.

"Attention, all teachers!" said a voice over the intercom system. "Please report immediately to the faculty office for a brief staff meeting. All students must return to their classrooms and are not to leave the school until further notice."

A few people groaned. Out of all of us, Mister Morooka seemed the most annoyed.

"Well, you heard the announcement! Don't go anywhere until you hear otherwise!" said Mister Morooka before heading out into the hall. I cursed myself for not having brought a book to read; it sounded like it would be a while before we were released. I thought that I might as well try to strike up a conversation with the girl next to me, but when I turned to my right, she had already gotten up to go talk with her friend, a black-haired girl wearing a red cardigan. Sirens could be heard coming from outside. Many students crowded around the windows in an attempt to catch a glimpse at whatever it was that was going on outside, but the heavy fog that arose after it stopped raining made it impossible to see whatever it was that was causing all the fuss. Eventually, the intercom activated again.

"Attention, all students! There has been an incident inside the school district. Police officers have been dispatched around the school zone. Please stay calm and contact your parents or guardians as soon as possible, and quickly leave the school grounds. Do not disturb the police officers. Head directly home," said the voice on the other end. The tumult of the class escalated greatly. Few students were in any hurry to get out by this point. They were too busy speculating about what exactly was going on. I, however, didn't want to dawdle. I got up and headed for the door.

"I guess I'm not going shopping today," I thought to myself.

"Hey, are you going home by yourself?" said someone from behind me. I turned and saw the brown-haired girl and her black-haired friend.

"Yeah. Why do you ask?" I said.

"Why don't you come with us?" asked the girl.

"Sure. I don't see why not," I said. I thought that I might as well try to make new friends, even if it didn't go anywhere.

"I'm Chie Satonaka," she said, extending her arm.

"Yu Narukami. It's nice to meet you," I said. We shook hands. Chie gestured towards her friend.

"This is Yukiko Amagi," said Chie. Yukiko did not seem nearly as spirited as Chie.

"Oh. It's nice to meet you. I'm sorry that this is so sudden," said Yukiko.

"Come on, don't apologize like that. It makes me look like I got no upbringing," said Chie.

"No, no. It's fine," I said. I wasn't entirely certain why Yukiko was apologizing, but if I had to guess, I would say that she was the sort of person who is just had trouble when dealing with new people, and if that was the case, I could empathize.

"Hey, do mind if I ask a few questions on the way?" said Chie.

"Not at all," I said. I had just stepped outside into the hall when I heard a voice come from behind us. Chie, Yukiko, and I all turned around. It was the brown-haired boy from earlier. He was holding a DVD keep case.

"Uh. Um. Miss Satonaka?" he said. He sounded as nervous as a man heading toward his execution. Chie looked understandably confused.

"Yeah? What is it?" asked Chie. The boy's anxiety visibly increased.

"Um. Ah. I would just like to say that this was really awesome. Like, the way they moved was just amazing to see," said the boy. He was stalling, Chie could see it, and she was not amused.

"Well, what is it? Spit it out!" said Chie. The boy took a deep breath, bowed his head, and extended the keep box towards Chie.

"I'm really sorry! It was an accident! Please just have mercy until my next paycheck!" said the boy. Chie took the keep box out of his hands.

"See you! Thanks!" said the boy. He made an attempt to flee, but it was no use; Chie's reflexes were too sharp. She grabbed him tightly by the collar.

"What did you do to my DVD?" Chie asked menacingly. The boy struggled to break free, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape Chie's iron grip. With her free hand, Chie opened the keep case. She looked at its contents with pure horror.

"I can't believe this! It's completely cracked! My  _Trial of the Dragon!_ " said Chie.

"Chie, calm down," said Yukiko fearfully. She could that Chie was about to do something impulsive and drastic, and she was correct. Chie delivered a swift kick to the boy's groin, and she put as much force behind the blow as she possibly could. I winced a little at the sight of it. The boy's facial expression contorted into one of pure anguish, and the second that Chie released his collar, he fell to his knees.

"Are...Are you okay?" asked Yukiko. The boy could only respond in a series of high-pitched squeaks of agony.

"He's fine, Yukiko. Let's go," said Chie callously.

"I'm so sorry. I just remembered that I have something to take care of. I can walk home with you two later if that's okay," I lied. Chie looked disappointed, but Yukiko didn't seem overly affected.

"That's too bad," said Chie. "I guess we'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. See you tomorrow, " I said. I watched as Chie and Yukiko walked down the hall. As soon as they were out of sight, I turned back to the boy.

"Come on, buddy, let's get you to the nurse," I said. I wasn't entirely sure how the nurse would be able to help him, but I didn't know what else to do.

After my second trip to the nurse's office for the day, I began to walk briskly towards the exit. The last few lingerers were making their way outside at last, and it would probably be unwise of me to stay much longer. It was at this time that I found my mind preoccupied one particular subject, and it wasn't whatever incident that had taken place in the school zone that day. I had not forgotten the promise I made the previous night. I promised that as soon as school was over, I would call Naoto with no more delays and no more excuses. I kept my hand in my right pocket, ready to pull my phone out as soon as I was outside. Right when the lockers were in sight, I saw a door across the hallway slide open.

And of course, it was Naoto.

She spotted me almost immediately after I spotted her. We stared at each other in awkward silence for only a few seconds this time. It was time to put an end to this. We couldn't just keep bumbling about whenever we saw one another. It was time to take initiative. I walked up to her.

"Hi, Naoto. It's been a while, hasn't it?" I said. I did my best to sound calm and self-assured, and I failed massively.

"Yes, it has," she said. She was stuttering ever so slightly. She noticed this, took a deep breath, and paused for a moment before continuing.

"How have you been?" she said, visibly struggling to maintain eye contact. She seemed even more nervous than I was. It was reminiscent of when we first met at Naganaki Shrine nearly eight years prior.

"My life's been pretty boring," I said. "Why don't we discuss this on the way home?"

"Ah, sure! Sure!" she said. We stepped outside and started walking.

"So, I, uh, didn't know you'd been living in Inaba," said Naoto.

"I wasn't until yesterday," I said.

"Oh. So, ah, why'd you move?" she said.

"It was my parents again," I said. My parents' unwavering dedication to their jobs is what separated me from Naoto seven years prior. How truly ironic it was that it would be the thing that brought us back together, too.

"Oh, I see," said Naoto somewhat sadly. "Where are they working? I wasn't aware that the Kirijo Group had any operations in Inaba."

"They don't. My parents are in San Francisco," I said.

"Oh! Are you living on your own now?" asked Naoto.

"No, I'm living with my uncle and cousin," I said.

"I see. Still, it must be hard," said Naoto.

"I've had to move around the country every year. I'm used to it by now," I said.

"Every year?" asked Naoto incredulously.

"Yeah. Every year," I said.

"I suppose that means you'll be leaving next year, doesn't it?" asked Naoto morosely. I took a moment before giving my response.

"Yes. Yes, it does," I said. It hurt me more than anything to have to tell her that. We finally had a chance to be together again, but it would all be snatched away from us next March.

"I see. That is unfortunate," said Naoto. Naoto tried to downplay it, but I could easily tell that that news upset her just as much as it did me. We were granted just under a year together. We'd have to make it a year to remember. We spent a few seconds in melancholy silence before Naoto spoke again, change the subject to something a bit less depressing.

"Anyway, what have you been up to?" asked Naoto.

"Not a whole lot. Like I said, my life's pretty boring," I said. Naoto had spent three years as a detective while still in middle school. I had more or less just been a normal student. Whatever I could say about my life would undoubtedly be highly dull in comparison to hers.

"I still want to hear about it," said Naoto.

"I'm telling you; there's nothing exciting I can say about it," I said. Naoto looked a little miffed by this.

"What did I just say? I don't care if you think it's boring. I think it's interesting. It's been seven years. You owe me at least this," she said. I couldn't help but smile.

"Yes. Yes I do," I said. I went over every significant event that took place in the seven years that we were apart, and suddenly, it felt just like the old times. Neither of us was anxious around the other. We were smiling and laughing. I hadn't felt that good in a long, long time. It really would have been nice if we could have sat down and had a more thorough conversation, but the all of Inaba was swarmed with police officers, and if they caught anyone in a school uniform dilly-dallying for too long, they "politely escorted" them home, so Naoto and I had to keep moving.

"Shibuya actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," I said.

"Really? I wouldn't have thought that you'd be fond of such a place," said Naoto.

"It was far, far worse," I said. My delivery elicited a quiet chuckle from Naoto.

"What made it any worse than the other cities?" she asked.

"Shujin Academy. I can say without any doubt that it was the worst school I have ever attended," I said.

"I see. I'm sorry to hear that," said Naoto.

"At least it's behind me now," I said. Naoto stopped at the intersection ahead.

"You live this way, correct?" she asked, pointing straight ahead. I nodded.

"Well, it was nice talking to you. Let's do it again sometime, okay?" she said. Before I had a chance to say anything in return, she took off down the path to my left. For no ostensible reason, she adopted a surprisingly hurried pace. My curiosity got the better of me; I had to follow her. Her short legs made it very easy indeed to catch up with her.

"Hey! Where are you going?" I asked.

"Home. It would be wise for you to do the same," said Naoto in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. Her unforeshadowed change in demeanor caught me a little off guard.

"Well, can I at least walk you home. Come on, I'd feel bad if I didn't make sure that you got home safely," I said. It wasn't technically a lie. The frenzy the police of Inaba had been whipped up into definitely demonstrated that something was very, very wrong. That being said, it was an unwarranted fear; police presence was so high that day that nothing bad could've happened in town that day without at least one officer witnessing it. I did neglect to mention that my primary reason for chasing after her was simply that I wanted to talk to her some more, but it is very likely that she could sense it on some level.

"Well, I, uh," she said. I gave my best disarming smile.

"Besides, I told you everything that I have been doing for the past seven years. It's only fair that you do the same, right?" I said playfully. Naoto looked deeply conflicted. It looked as though part of her wanted to oblige me, but the other part just wanted to go home already. After a few seconds of mental deliberation, she spoke again.

"Actually, yes. There's something I really need to talk to you about," said Naoto. She scanned the area around her, presumably to ensure that no police officers were in sight.

"Let's sit down for a moment, okay?" said Naoto, pointing towards a nearby bench.

"Okay," I said.

"Do you know why I came to Inaba?" asked Naoto.

"I assumed that it was work-related," I said. Naoto looked down at the ground.

"From a certain point of view, I suppose you could say that," said Naoto with just a tinge of bitterness in her voice. "I'm no longer a detective,"

"Why?" I asked. It simply made no sense to me. She wouldn't have quit; Naoto dedicated herself wholly to becoming a detective for her entire life. She couldn't have been fired, though. Her genius, diligence, and devotion would make her an invaluable addition to any team, and it would take a fool not to realize that.

"The official report says that it was due to health-related difficulties," said Naoto. I immediately began to panic.

"Oh! What's wrong? Are you okay?" I said. Naoto looked back towards me.

"No! No! I'm fine now! I just came down with something one day, that's all!" she said, trying to reassure me.

"Oh. That's a relief," I said. "So, you let go because you were sick for one day?"

"No. The truth of the matter is that Grampa used his influence to guarantee that no police prefecture would let me work for them," said Naoto.

"When did this happen?" I asked.

"Last month," said Naoto.

"Why would he do such a thing?" I asked. As far to my knowledge, Naoto's grandfather had been nothing but supportive of her career. He did let her join the police force while she was still in middle school, after all. For him to just put an end to career so abruptly was totally illogical. Naoto took a minute before responding.

"He told me that I wasn't ready to be a detective. He told me that I couldn't be trusted to act responsibly enough," she said. She breathed in heavily.

"Why would he say that?" I asked.

"Because I only got sick because of my own negligence. I put my health on the line over an obsession. I made one mistake, and now I have to suffer for it," she said. Tears were welling up in her eyes. I rummaged around in my bookbag, got out a few pieces of tissue paper, and handed them to her. She pressed them hard against her eyes.

"Everything I did, I did it in pursuit of my dream. I studied twice as hard as everyone else. I worked twice as hard as all the other detectives combined. I always did what was asked of me. I did everything I could to become perfect, but because I made one mistake, it was all for nothing," she said, voice shaking. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just wrapped my arms around and tried to comfort her. I listened to her sob quietly for several minutes. Once she had regained some semblance of composure, she broke from my embrace and tucked the wet tissues into her pocket.

"Thank you for that. I'm sorry you had to see that," said Naoto.

"No need to apologize, Naoto," I said. "So what do you plan to do now?"

"About Grampa?" asked Naoto.

"Yeah," I said.

"I don't know. I've had all this anger and sadness boiling up inside me for the past month, and I can't take it much longer," said Naoto. "Just yesterday, Grampa and I had a fight."

"Is that why you were crying yesterday?" I asked.

"So you did notice," said Naoto. "Yes, it was."

"Are you going to say something to him?" I asked.

"No. Not if I can avoid it, anyway," said Naoto. I didn't like the sound of that. The problem would only get worse if the two of them didn't reach an understanding soon; however, it was not my place to intervene. This was a matter that could only be resolved by Naoto and her grandfather. The most I could do was offer moral support.

"I see. Well, if you need someone to talk to at any time for any reason, just call me, okay?" I said.

"Thank you, Yu. It means a lot to me. It really does," she said to me, smiling for the first time in a long, long while. In the distance, I saw a police officer slowly approaching us, no doubt preparing to berate us for not being at home yet. I stood up from the bench.

"Yes, sir, we were just on our way. No need to come at us," I shouted to him. Naoto stood from the bench, and we resumed the walk to her grandfather's house. We exchanged no words during the walk; we merely enjoyed each other's company in silence. Upon arrival, I was stunned by the house's sheer opulence; it's sometimes easy to forget the affluence of the Shirogane family.

"Thanks for coming with me today. I really needed to talk to someone," said Naoto.

"I understand completely. Can we meet again tomorrow?" I said. Naoto looked up at me with cheer in her eyes.

"Yes! Yes! Absolutely!" said Naoto excitedly. It filled me with great joy that I was able to brighten her day during the rough patch she was going through. She turned around to head inside, but I grabbed her by the sleeve. There was something I had to get off of my chest.

"Hold on. Before I go, there's one last thing that I want to say.

"Oh? What's that?" asked Naoto. I swallowed hard.

"I just want to reemphasize how nice it is to see you again. I don't think that I did a good enough job of showing it earlier. If I may be perfectly candid for a moment, I have not had any real friends since we last saw each other in Port Island. I've been lonely for seven years. Being with you today made me feel better than I had in a long, long time. Thank you," I said. It was sappy, yes, but it truly was how I felt, and Naoto was had had a difficult month to say the very least; it might do her some good to hear just how much she means to me. I felt myself get ever so slightly misty-eyed. No more words were necessary. Naoto smiled at me, nodded, and headed indoors. I turned around and headed for the Dojimas' house.

"Maybe this will be a good year," I thought to myself.


	4. Chapter Four

" _As soon as we are fully conscious, we discover loneliness. We need others physically, emotionally, intellectually; we need them if we are to know anything, even ourselves."_

— C.S. Lewis,  _The Four Loves_

* * *

**Chapter Four: Good Times/Hard Times**

**Naoto**

* * *

**23 April 2003**

"And it's done!" said Yu after the last sticker was placed on the model. We both took a few seconds to admire the finished product. It was quite a feat that we had successfully assembled the whole thing in two days. The thing was massive. I suppose that having two people made it go by a lot quicker. As much fun as I had putting it together, seeing the completed model in its full splendor was even better.

"Wow," I said. I was so impressed by the fruits of our labor that I couldn't articulate any other response. Yu took the model in his hands and carefully inspected it.

"It looks a whole letter better than it did in the picture," said Yu. Once he had finished admiring it, he handed it over to me. I took immense satisfaction in the fact that I had helped put together something so intricate and beautiful. Yu slid its box across the table.

"Now, I want you to have it," said Yu. These words were enough to snap me back to reality.

"What?" I said, astonished. It was very clearly a rare and valuable piece of memorabilia. I had assumed that once it was finished Yu would want it back, and I was perfectly okay with that; I took more joy in building it than I would in owning it.

"No, no, I can't take this," I said. I put the model back in its box and slid it back over to Yu. The notion of taking it from him just didn't sit right with me. Even though he was offering it willingly, it still felt like theft. Was he not aware of this item's value or did he just not care?

"No, really, you can have it. I don't want it. I just wanted to have something to do with you," said Yu. His generosity was touching, but I could not accept it. I would just feel dirty taking something like this.

"Maybe we can share it? You can take it one day, and I can have it the next, okay?" I said. I must say, I never thought that I would ever have to argue against taking ownership of something so precious. Yu shrugged.

"Okay, if you insist," said Yu. He reluctantly took the box and tucked it back into his backpack.

"What do you want to do now?" I asked. I really didn't care. If he just wanted to sit and talk, I would enjoy that. I was just happy that I didn't have to be alone anymore.

"I don't know. What do you want to do?" asked Yu. I thought for a moment. While I was content to just stay at the shrine and talk, there was a whole world full of opportunities for the two of us to explore. We could do so much more.

"We could go to the arcade," I said. I know that it sounds so incredibly mundane, but in the idea of partaking in one of my hobbies with another person of my age was an adventure for me. Having spent all of my leisure time in solitude for my entire life, even such a simple pastime seemed exhilarating to me when I finally had someone to enjoy it alongside. Yu took a moment to respond.

"Sure, let's go," said Yu. It was very subtle, but he seemed quite hesitant to agree to my suggestion. It was very curious indeed. On one of the many, many tangents the previous day's conversation went off on, he revealed that he had at least a passing interest in the hobby.

"Do you not want to?" I asked.

"Yes, absolutely," said Yu. He tried to conceal it, but there was a distinct lack of enthusiasm in his voice.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Well, it's just that it will be awfully crowded, but if that's where you want to go, I'll go, too," said Yu. He wasn't wrong. Places like Game Panic would be packed to the brim with people. He sounded like he really wanted to go but would be unable to enjoy himself in light of the cramped atmosphere that would be awaiting us. I could empathize immensely. I thought for a moment about an alternate activity that the two of us could partake in, but suddenly, I was struck by a flash of remembrance.

"Don't worry about it; I know a special place. It's not far from here," I said, standing up from the table.

"Okay. Lead the way," said Yu. He sounded a bit skeptical, but I was confident that what I was about to show him would not disappoint. For the entire ten minutes of our walk, Yu stealthily tried to pry information concerning our destination out of me, but I deliberately dodged all of his questions. I wanted it to be a surprise. We eventually arrived in front of in front of a small arcade simply named  _Waldegrave's Games_  tucked between a barbershop and a convenience store on one of the few quiet streets in all of Port Island. Few people ever passed through here. I most likely would have gone about my life never even knowing that this particular place existed had it not been for my father. Many people find it shameful to carry hobbies from their childhood into adulthood, but my father did not seem to care even the slightest bit about what others thought of a grown man spending hours at an arcade. He didn't get the chance to do so often, but on the few days of the year that he could, he happily spent the evening away at the arcade on this empty street. I know this because he had told me about it. Because the schedules of a police detective and a primary school student rarely synchronize, we only were only able to go together a single time, just a few short weeks before his life came to an untimely end. The looks on the faces of the other patrons upon seeing the sight of one of Japan's most venerated detectives unironically enjoying games meant for children and teenagers was quite a sight, and I can imagine that they reacted similarly in all those time he had went before. I had not set foot on this street since my parents died. I hadn't even thought about it in over a month. One might expect the sight of the arcade, a favorite haunt of my father and a place where we had shared such a wonderful day not that long ago would trigger a flood of painful memories that would cause me to run as far away as I could in tears or at the very least make me want to walk away, refusing to look back, yet neither of those happened. No, the only thing on my mind was what a good time that awaited Yu and me inside. The wound on my soul was close to the point of healing.

Yu was visibly pleased when we got inside. The large floor of the arcade was practically empty, and unlike  _Game Panic_ , the volume on the arcade cabinets was set low enough to still be able to hear oneself think. How the establishment managed to stay in business with such a small consumer base remains a mystery to me, but as a child, I certainly wasn't going to question such a boon.

"It's so...quiet," said Yu, surprised.

"I thought that you might like it," I said to him, smiling. He smiled back.

"Yeah. I think I'll have to start coming here," said Yu.

"Be sure to bring me with you," I said.

"Naturally," said Yu sincerely. That day, we played at every cabinet in the arcade, stopping only for a brief period when Yu tried to persuade me to let him pay for the cost of playing because he felt guilty that I was covering all the expenses myself. I didn't mind one bit. Grampa was very generous when giving me spending money. Some might go so far as to say that he was irresponsibly generous for entrusting a seven-year-old with such large sums of money, but between his share of the Shirogane estate that he inherited when he was much younger and the care with which he spent his earnings over the course of his decades-long career, he had accumulated more wealth in his life than he knew what to do with. Despite the readiness with which he would give money, I never took advantage of it. The only things I ever really spent significant amounts on were books, and even then, I tried to spend as responsibly as possible. That day at the arcade, however, I was more than happy to indulge for a change and treat Yu to a fun evening.

"Another round?" I asked after finishing another game of  _Herodotus._ It sounded like he was about to respond in the affirmative, but as soon as his eyes drifted to the clock on the wall, his train of thought was immediately derailed.

"Oh no! Oh no! I am so sorry, Naoto!" shouted Yu hysterically. What few fellow customers that were at the arcade when we arrived were gone, and the establishment's owner, his nose buried in some torrid romance novel, seemed completely oblivious to Yu's outburst. Before I could get a single word in, Yu took me by the hand and run outside, where we were greeted by the sight of a starry sky. The dark windows of the arcade prevented us from noticing nightfall. I looked down at my watch. By the time we exited the arcade, Grampa should have arrived home hours earlier. I began to panic internally. The one stipulation that Grampa had was that I arrive home at a reasonable hour, and I had violated it.

"Which way do you live?" asked Yu, getting more and more strident. I broke free of his grasp and began running in the direction of home. Yu followed. All along the way, he kept apologizing for not noticing the time, and no matter times I told him that it was my fault, not his, he only seemed to get increasingly lugubrious.

Upon arriving at our home I collapsed onto my knees. My thoroughly unathletic body was in immense pain, and I was gasping for breath. Yu knocked on the door. As the door creaked open, all sorts of fearful thoughts entered my mind. What punishment awaited me behind that door? Would Grampa forbid me from seeing Yu after tonight?

"Sir, I am so sorry that..." began Yu before he recognized Grampa. It was impossible for anyone in Japan not to recognize Grampa given all the times he appeared in the news. In that moment I realized that I never told Yu about my family nor even told him my surname. I wasn't deliberately hiding anything; it had just never come up. The surprise left Yu speechless.

"Why hello! You must be Yu. Naoto has told me so much about you," said Grampa warmly. He sounded completely serene and calm, as if he was totally unbothered by the lateness of my arrival.

"Hello, Detective Shirogane. It is an honor to meet you," stuttered Yu as he bowed in reverence. He clearly had not been expecting to meet a celebrity detective that night. It sounded like Yu was going to continue, but Grampa cut him off.

"Please, it's not necessary to be so formal," said Grampa. He looked over to me. "Welcome back, Naoto! It's good to see that you're okay."

"I am so, so sorry that I'm late," I said, still short of breath.

"Wow, it sounds like you just ran a marathon! Please, come inside," said Grampa jokingly. He turned back to Yu.

"It was very nice to meet you, Yu, but you really should be heading home right now. You're more than welcome to drop by later, though!" said Grampa. Yu simply nodded in acknowledgment.

"Goodbye, Naoto," said Yu.

"Goodbye, Yu," I said. Yu took off, and I entered the house. I expected to receive a fierce lecture, but that certainly wasn't what I got.

"Did you have a nice time today?" asked Grampa sincerely.

"Are you not mad?" I asked. I was truly incredulous.

"No, not particularly. I think that it's nice that you're spending time with a friend," said Grampa. His voice then turned serious for a moment. "Just don't make a habit out of it, or at the very least, give me some warning, okay?"

"Understood," I said, relieved.

"Come on, dinner's getting cold," said Grampa.

* * *

**12 April 2011**

I leaped out of bed with the greatest rapidity and shut off my alarm clock. I was feeling thoroughly exhausted that morning; the combination of the previous night's insomnolence and the fact that I woke several hours earlier than strictly necessary, I was feeling decidedly wretched that morning. I desperately wanted to go back to bed, but I couldn't. I had to wake up extremely early if I wanted to avoid Grampa. It was the pinnacle of cowardice, and I was well-aware of this, but nevertheless, even though more than sixteen hours had passed since our fight, I still could not bring myself to face him. I was simply not prepared for the lengthy, painful discussion that would undoubtedly follow. As such, I was determined to do everything that I could to minimize the probability of encountering Grampa.

After taking a shower of minimal water pressure to avoid creating noise, I proceeded to get dressed. Grampa had somehow managed to procure a boy's uniform for me despite the fact that it would be a flagrant violation of Yasogami High's dress code. I briefly pondered if there was any point to it. While I worked as a detective, it was of the utmost importance that I mask the truth about my sex. I was only able to get my foot in the door by lying, and if word ever got out, I would most certainly find myself being ostracized even further if not outright discarded for deceiving my superiors. I successfully maintained the illusion for the past three years, but I had to wonder if there was any purpose in trying to keep up the facade any longer. I no longer had anything to lose if the truth were to be revealed. Besides, the faculty members already knew it, and news travels quickly in schools; it would be, at maximum, a couple of weeks before the entire student body knew. I arrived at the conclusion that, no, there was no point; nonetheless, I strongly preferred the option of continuing to dress as a male at that time. I'm not entirely sure why. I suppose that after three years, I had just grown accustomed to it.

"Gone to school," read the note that I placed on the dining room table for Grampa to find. It was raining very heavily when I stepped outside. Even with an umbrella, I hated the idea of having to wait in that downpour until the school gates opened, but of course, I proceeded outside anyway. I began heading toward the shopping district. I hadn't yet eaten breakfast, and hopefully, there would be an open restaurant that I could wait out the rain in. How very foolish I was to think this. I seemed to have forgotten that I was no longer in Sapporo where there were establishments that were open twenty-four hours every day on every street corner. No, I was in Inaba, and in the early hours of the morning, every window in the shopping district was dark. This wouldn't be a problem for most people, but I had elected to wake up at an unreasonable hour, so I had to face the consequences of it. Well, I might not have been able to get out of the rain, but I could at least have my morning coffee. I purchased three cans of black coffee from a nearby vending machine. It tasted absolutely foul, but I didn't buy it because I was expecting a flavorful beverage; I bought it because I badly needed something to invigorate my tired mind and body. I began to walk away.

"Yo! Is this yours?" called out a voice from behind me. This caught me a bit off guard. I hadn't seen anyone at all in the shopping district, but then again, the pale glow of Inaba's street lights didn't provide very much illumination. I turned around and saw a boy dressed in a black sweater with a skull-and-crossbones design, a great deal of metal jewelry, and several piercings in his face. His hair was bleached blonde and a fake scar was painted on his left temple. He looked like a stereotypical delinquent. His appearance might have been appalling to the people of Inaba, but I saw this sort of person all the time in Sapporo; I was utterly unintimidated by him. His hand was extended, and in his palm laid several assorted coins. It was my change from the vending machine; I must have dropped it.

"Yes. Thank you," I said, taking the change from his hand. During my tenure as a detective, I developed a keen eye for distinguishing violent criminals from people who were just mimicking the appearance of one. This boy put a lot of effort into making himself look like a thug, but through various subtleties in the way he carried himself, I could safely say that he was largely harmless.

"You're welcome," he said. I turned around and continued drinking my coffee as I walked. It didn't take long before I noticed that I was being followed. I turned and saw the boy from earlier walking close behind me.

"Yes? What do you want?" I asked.

"Hey, I was just going this way, too. No need to get all pissy," he said, slightly agitated. I simply turned around and kept walking. After a few minutes of walking straight ahead, he spoke again.

"So, uh, do you mind if I get under there?" asked the boy. I had to roll my eyes at his request. Despite getting offended when I asked, it turned out he did want something after all.

"Do you not have an umbrella?" I asked, perturbed.

"Didn't bring it," said the boy.

"Even though it's raining?" I asked. He seemed to get a little embarrassed.

"Hey! It wasn't that bad when I came out here, okay?" he said. Wasn't that bad? Exactly how long had he been outside? I let out a sigh.

"Fine; go ahead," I said. "Which way do you live?"

"Uh, why?" asked the boy.

"So you get can your umbrella," I said.

"I, uh, can't go home right now," he said. I didn't bother to ask why; I was in a similar position, and I wouldn't want some stranger prying into my life.

"Okay. Which way are you heading?" I asked.

"Follow me," he said. It was quite a struggle to keep up with him. His standard walking speed exceeded my own vastly. I wanted to ask him to slow down, but my own sense of pride would not permit me to do so. When we began ascending a hill, it became quite taxing on my lungs to maintain such a quick pace on such a steep incline.

"We're here," he said. At the top of the hill sat a small pavilion with a square table and four benches surrounding it. I was happy to see that I would finally have a chance to sit down. I sat on the bench opposite to the one the boy chose. I deposited the empty coffee can into a nearby garbage can and opened the second one. I must say that the view was very nice from the hilltop. I made a mental note to stop by there again in the future. I was content to just spend some time in thought as I waited for the time to head off to school came, but the boy spoke again.

"So you new in town or something?" asked the boy. "I don't see many people wandering around this early."

"Yes I am," I said.

"So, what's your name?" asked the boy. I wasn't overly fond of idle chitchat, but I had a long while to wait, and I didn't really have anything else to do.

"Naoto Shirogane," I said.

"Like that detective kid?" asked the boy. I internally groaned. I had hoped very deeply that my reputation wouldn't have followed me all the way to Inaba, but sadly, it did. Even if my peers hated me in Sapporo, the media adored me. Whether it was because of the prestige that the Shirogane name carried with it or because of the novelty of a teenage detective, reporters were always looking for a chance to interview me. At first, I was delighted to have a chance to talk about the cases I had worked on on national television, but virtually every encounter with the press I had inevitably devolved into asking me personal questions rather than questions pertinent to my work. Eventually, I gave up on trying to deal with the media and did everything in my power to avoid contact with them. Much to my dismay, there were still times when I had no choice but to meet with the media. Thanks to my television appearances, I soon gathered a community of admirers. I understand that some people might find all of this attention flattering, but for me, it was extremely bothersome. I went into law enforcement out of passion for the job, not for recognition, and not to mention the fact that a large portion of my fans did little more than pester me on the street.

"Yes, that's me," I said. There was really no point in trying to lie. He already knew.

"And who are you?" I asked. I strongly wished to avoid talking about myself.

"Kanji Tatsumi," he said. After giving me his name, Kanji looked as if he were deep in thought for a moment. He was trying to think of what to say next, something that I found very strange. He had been the one to initiate the conversation, but he didn't have anything to say. In my personal experience, people who try to ape the look of delinquents are often trying to isolate themselves from others. I wondered why exactly he was trying so hard to socialize with me. Did he need something more from me?

"Uh, why'd you come to Inaba?" asked Kanji.

"Personal business," I said. It was not something I wanted to be discussing at that moment, let alone with a complete stranger.

"Do you, uh, need someone to show you around town?" asked Kanji.

"No, I think that I can manage," I said. In hindsight, I think that I may have been excessively cold to him. I was taking my stress out on him when he hadn't really done anything to deserve it. Much like myself, he seemed to be not particularly adept in social situations, but he was trying his hardest. I had no idea why that was at the time, but he was indeed trying.

"Fine. Be like that," said Kanji, slightly miffed. Time passed in total silence. The both of us simply looked towards the eastern horizon. The rain had let up slightly, and through a small crack in the clouds, the rising sun could be seen over the mountains. I had never seen a sunrise in its full splendor prior to that day. The lights of the big city made it impossible to appreciate the beauty of one. The way the first light of the morning cast itself over Inaba was truly a sight to behold. It's simply not possible to describe its glory with only words. Kanji seemed relatively unimpressed. He probably saw such a sight dozens of times by that point. He put aside his irritation with me for a moment to chuckle at the sight of me gawking at such a mundane event. Much to my disappointment, the wind soon blew a heavy cloud over the sun. I finished off the last bit of the second can of coffee. I found my heart racing at a surprising speed and a mild headache coming on; I had expected a fairly weak, watered-down beverage, but this brand was surprisingly potent. Having a third can would probably be unwise. I took the final can and slid it across the table.

"Do you want this?" I asked. Kanji took the can in hand.

"Thanks, man," he said. He downed the contents of the can in a matter of seconds. I might have been impressed by such a feat had it not looked so disgusting. Kanji wiped some of the coffee that missed his mouth off of his face with his sleeve. We had already established that there wasn't really anything to talk about, so neither of us said anything more. I looked down at my watch. The school gates would be opening soon. I got up to leave.

"See you around," said Kanji.

"Yes. See you around," I said.

The walk to Yasogami High was utterly uneventful. I didn't run across a single soul on my way, which is understandable; I sincerely doubt that there exist many students who are so passionate about school that they would wake up quite so early to arrive there. The hallway lights were on, but the lights in all the rooms were shut off with the sole exception of what was presumably the faculty office. I entered room 1-2, turned on the lights, and picked the seat in the front row nearest to the window. As time progressed, students slowly began to trickle into the classroom. Once the room was about half-full, I noticed something very odd. All the girls' eyes seemed to be fixed on me. I sighed. This was one of several things that I was worried about. Among my fans in Sapporo were a number of love-struck girls. Once again, while many would take this as a compliment, I found it highly aggravating and slightly creepy. I swear, more than half of the things I fed to my shredder were love letters that found their way to me one way or another. Even if I did have interest in them, my admirers' attraction was based on shallow infatuation and nothing more, which is not exactly a solid foundation to build a relationship upon. I hoped sincerely that once they learned the truth about my gender, these girls would lose interest in me. I heard my name uttered several times in the conversations that the other students were having among themselves. Nobody said a word to me personally, but I certainly wasn't going to complain about that.

Two thoughts were on my mind as I stared out the window, trying to drown out the sea of voices that got louder with time. The first was of how to deal with Grampa. I knew that I couldn't delay a meeting with him forever. Do not mistake me; I wanted to resolve the matter, but I simply could not find it within me to actually do it. I didn't know what I could say when the time came, and I simply couldn't stomach the idea of facing Grampa without being fully prepared for the highly emotional confrontation that would surely take place. No matter how much I racked my brain, however, nothing useful came to mind.

The second was of Yu. Despite its brevity, I couldn't forget our reunion the previous day. How could I? There was once a time where he was my closest companion in the world. He was someone who I was never bored around. He was someone who I could tell anything, even things I couldn't tell Grampa, and he would listen and understand. He was someone who cared about me very deeply and someone I cared very deeply about. When his family left for Osaka, I never imagined that we would meet again seven years later in an entirely different town, yet there we were.

The door to the classroom slid open. An obviously hungover woman stumbled into the room. She looked young; she was probably just a few years out of college.

"Alright. Okay. Hello. I'm your homeroom teacher, Hoshi Itou," she said, slurring slightly. "Role call."

As was traditional, everyone stood and briefly introduced themselves when their name was called. Most gave a fairly dry, clinical personal introduction, but a few tried to be clever or cute and failed miserably. One timid-looking, green-haired girl who was even shorter than me had to repeat her introduction multiple times because no one could hear her.

"Present," I said when my name was called. It wasn't much, but firstly, I didn't want to call more attention to myself than I was already receiving, and secondly, I did not care one bit for such perfunctory formalities.

"Kanji Tatsumi," said Miss Itou multiple times before circling his name in red ink. It struck me as a tad strange that Kanji was sharing a homeroom with me; he looked much older than a first-year. I strongly doubted that anything was preventing him from coming to school; he most likely simply couldn't be bothered to attend. I hoped that he wouldn't make a habit out of such absenteeism, for he seemed nice enough, and it would be quite a shame if he found himself in trouble with the school.

What ensued was the briefest possible lecture imaginable. Our teacher was, to my knowledge, supposed to inform us as to what we should expect in the coming school year, but Miss Itou gave us only the bare minimum. It was readily apparent that she was even less enthused about the start of the school year than we were.

"So yeah. Uh, that's it. Normal lectures start tomorrow," said Miss Itou before putting her feet up on the desk and closing her eyes. Within seconds, she was snoring loudly. Nearly two hours were left before class was supposed to end for that day. A few bold souls decided to take advantage of the situation and left early. I was strongly tempted to join them, but knowing my luck, I would probably just get caught. I decided to just stay put along with the majority of the class.

Much to my chagrin, a large portion of the class's attention turned to me. Students clustered around me and asked me all sorts of questions, making me regret not leaving when the opportunity presented itself.

"Hey, what's it like being a detective?" asked one boy.

"Are you working on a case here?" asked another.

"Do you want to walk home together?" asked a girl. I tried to answer the first few questions succinctly and vaguely while still maintaining my cool, but as time wore on, the questions became more and more outlandish and personal, and I became increasingly cold and passive-aggressive. My patience for such questions tended to wear thin very swiftly. One girl passed what was very obviously a love letter to me. I looked over to her and saw her blush. I crumpled up the paper in my hand and placed in the garbage bin while maintaining eye contact the whole time. I know that it sounds cruel, but I knew from experience that if I didn't make my lack of interest clear immediately, she'd continue her pursuit of me indefinitely.

"Um, excuse me," said a voice from behind me. I turned and saw the green-haired girl who had trouble speaking properly earlier. I was slightly surprised to see that she was making an attempt to converse with me; she didn't strike me as an overly extroverted person. She spent several seconds tripping over her words before I interjected.

"Yes? What is it?" I asked.

"I'm Ayane Matsunaga," she said quietly.

"What do you want, Matsunaga?" I asked. I was being highly standoffish. It's just that I was expecting her to bother me with more questions like all the others.

"Um, uh, never mind," said Ayane, extremely embarrassed before returning to her seat, looking down at the floor, and never looking back up.

"Attention, all teachers! Please report immediately to the faculty office for a brief staff meeting. All students must return to their classrooms and are not to leave the school until further notice," said a voice over the intercom. Miss Itou, who had been sleeping quite soundly up until that point, at last rose from her chair.

"Stay put, okay?" said Miss Itou with a yawn before heading out into the hallway. I cursed myself yet again for not slipping out of school earlier. By that point, most of my classmates had gotten the message that I was in no mood to talk, but there were still a few, mostly girls, that still insisted on badgering me.

All of a sudden, sirens could be heard blaring from outside. Judging by the reaction of my classmates, this was a very rare occurrence in Inaba, as numerous boys and girls got up from their seats and gathered around the windows. Looking for an excuse to get away from the girls who were still hounding me, I headed to the window in the back of the room, the only one that didn't have a flock of students around it. Trying to ascertain what was going on outside proved rather difficult, as a thick fog had fallen over the area. The sirens evidently belonged to police cars, and there were not just two or three of them; a large portion of Inaba's police department seemed to have been deployed to the school area. My curiosity was piqued.

"Attention, all students! There has been an incident inside the school district. Police officers have been dispatched around the school zone. Please stay calm and contact your parents or guardians as soon as possible, and quickly leave the school grounds. Do not disturb the police officers. Head directly home," said the voice over the intercom. The lion's share of the class decided to leave that instant. The few that remained whispered to each other with a mixture of fear and confusion in their voices, sharing all sorts of wild conjectures about the situation. I was put in a rather difficult situation. I had a sneaking suspicion that the police in the area would have no tolerance for laggards. Students who idled for too long were going to be taken home by force if necessary, and I still was not yet comfortable with the idea of heading home; Grampa would no doubt be waiting for me anticipatorily. I decided to continue staring out the window. I would not leave until I had to. The fog had cleared significantly since the initial announcement was made. From the window, I could see a few police cars in the distance. Whatever incident had taken place, it had occurred on the very edge of the school zone. I squinted, trying to see what was going on, but it was too far away to make it out. From the hallway, the sliding of doors could be heard growing closer and closer to me. Someone was going from room to room to ensure that all students had evacuated as directed. Soon, the door behind me slid open.

"You have five minutes to get out of here, or there will be consequences, boy!" said a balding man with an overbite before slamming the door shut. I couldn't loiter much longer. After about a minute had passed, I exited the room, and started developing a plan in my head as to how I could avoid going home for as long as possible. I got about a half of a step into this plan when I certain person walking down the hallway.

Of course, it was Yu.

As soon as he saw me, he stopped in his tracks. We looked at each other for several seconds. The shock at the unexpectedness of our reunion the previous day still hadn't worn off for either of us, it seemed. I was wondering how long it would persist. Yu ostensibly decided that the time had come to put aside the awkwardness and approached me. I panicked inside. I wasn't ready for it. I needed time to rehearse. What should I say? I couldn't just pretend that years hadn't passed. How had his interests changed? What would he like to talk about? I didn't know such things.

"Hi, Naoto. It's been a while, hasn't it?" said Yu. It was very evident that he was very nervous. He was just as worried about how that conversation would go down as I was, and that multiplied my own anxiety many times over. I said the first thing that came to mind.

"Yes, it has," I said, stuttering. I was highly embarrassed. I thought that I had shaken that stutter years ago. I instinctively started to break eye contact but made a conscious effort to keep looking ahead. I inhaled deeply.

"How have you been?" I asked. I actively tried to suppress the stutter that had abruptly resurfaced.

"My life's been pretty boring. Why don't we discuss it on the way home?" said Yu. He was starting to sound a little calmer. I wish the same could have been said for myself.

"Ah, sure! Sure!" I said. We started walking.

"So, I, uh, didn't you'd been living in Inaba," I said. I was hoping that a little bit of simple small talk might soothe my jangled nerves.

"I wasn't until yesterday," said Yu. Well, that was quite a coincidence. Our newness to the area gave us a bit of common ground. I entertained the idea of using that as a conversation starter but quickly decided against it. I really didn't feel like talking about myself. Not right then, anyway.

"Oh. So, ah, why'd you move?" I asked. Yu shrugged.

"It was my parents again," said Yu. I suppose that it shouldn't have come as any surprise. The demands of the Kirijo Group is what forced him and his parents to move seven years ago.

"Oh, I see. Where are they working? I wasn't aware that the Kirijo Group had any operations in Inaba," I said.

"They don't. My parents are in San Francisco," said Yu. Most people wouldn't have said it so casually. It was as if Yu didn't care even in the slightest that his parents had abandoned him to go work on an entirely different continent. After years of chronic absence from his life, Yu had become totally indifferent to the whereabouts and activities of his parents. What minimal attachment to and concern he still had for them when we were children had completely vanished in the seven years since.

"Oh! Are you living on your own now?" I asked.

"No, I'm living with my uncle and cousin," said Yu. To hear that made me extraordinarily happy for Yu. Even after I lost my parents, I still had Grampa. Yu never had anyone, but in Inaba, for the first time in his life, Yu had a family.

"I see. Still, it must be hard," I said.

"I've had to move around the country every year. I'm used to it by now," said Yu. A feeling of dread came over me.

"Every year?" I asked.

"Yeah. Every year," said Yu.

"I suppose that means you'll be leaving next year, doesn't it?" I asked. I already knew the answer, but I wanted to believe that there would be an exception. I wanted to believe that I would be granted just a little more time with Yu; however, I learned years prior that reality doesn't care about one's wishes. Yu stayed silent for a bit before answering my question.

"Yes. Yes it does," said Yu sadly.

"I see. That is unfortunate," I said. I didn't know what else to say. It was like a cruel joke. We had been reunited in Inaba. The odds of us moving to the same place at the same time were astronomical, but even after a stroke of such immensely good luck, it was all destined to end in a year's time. Neither of us said anything more. The atmosphere had gone from jubilant to morose in just a few seconds. One of us had to change to subject.

"Anyway, what have you been up to?" I asked. We needed to keep our minds off of what was coming the next year. Fretting over it would not change anything. We would just have to make the most of the time we had been granted.

"Not a whole lot. Like I said, my life's been pretty boring," said Yu.

"I still want to hear about it," I said.

"I'm telling you; there's nothing exciting I can say about it," said Yu. Yu's tight-lippedness was growing frustrating. Seven years. It had been seven years since we had last seen each other. I did not care how unexciting or uneventful his life had been. Even if it didn't matter to him, it mattered to me. It mattered to me because I had been dreaming of seeing him again for all these years. It mattered because I hadn't had the chance to talk to him since he left Port Island. It mattered because we were friends.

"What did I just say? I don't care if you think it's boring. I think it's interesting. It's been seven years. You owe me at least this," I said. Yu smiled.

"Yes. Yes I do," said Yu. He proceeded to recount as much as he could from his life in the various cities he had lived on over the course of seven years. Everywhere from Osaka to Kobe to Kyoto to Hiroshima to Nagoya to Sendai and finally, to Shibuya. While we were talking, my worries disappeared. I wasn't thinking about my fight with Grampa. I wasn't thinking about my career's end the previous month. I was happy. I was happier than I had been in seven years.

"Shibuya actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," said Yu. I was rather surprised by that statement. As far to my knowledge, Yu's disdain for urban life ran even deeper than my own.

"Really? I wouldn't have thought that you'd be fond of such a place," I said.

"It was far, far worse," said Yu.

"What made it any worse than the other cities?" I asked.

"Shujin Academy. I can say without any doubt that it was the worst school I have ever attended," said Yu.

"I see. I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

"At least it's behind me now," said Yu. We arrived at an intersection. If I understood correctly, it was here that our paths diverged.

"You live this way, correct?" I said, pointing straight ahead. Yu nodded. "Well, it was nice talking to you. Let's do it again sometime, okay?"

I began heading toward my house and soon realized that I was being followed. Before long, Yu was right behind my shoulder.

"Hey! Where are you going?" asked Yu. Yu wasn't ready to let me go. The prospect of spending more time with him was actually very, very appealing, but it would be a lengthy detour for him. We were already out later than the officers patrolling the town wanted students to be, and I would have felt truly terrible if he found himself in trouble with the police because of me.

"Home. It would be wise for you to do the same," I said, a bit more off-puttingly than I intended.

"Well, can I at least walk you home? Come on, I'd feel bad if I didn't make sure that you got home safely," said Yu. I was starting to feel a bit guilty.

"Well, I, uh," I began before Yu interrupted me.

"Besides, I told you everything that I have been doing for the past seven years. It's only fair that you do the same, right?" said Yu. Yes, it was only fair, but I still could not shake my unwillingness to talk about myself. Doing so would only conjure up memories of things that I would rather forget. Further, I feared that talking about recent events in my life would make myself appear weak and vulnerable. I deliberated on it for a while, and decided that no matter how painful it might be to discuss everything, it would be far, far worse for me to keep it all boxed up inside. As I learned through my breakdown at the shrine the previous day, I wasn't above it all, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise.

"Actually, yes. There's something I really need to talk to you about," I said. I did a quick scan of our surroundings. I didn't want any patrolmen interrupting us.

"Let's sit down for a moment, okay?" I said as I gestured toward the nearest bench.

"Okay," said Yu.

"Do you know why I came to Inaba?" I asked.

"I assumed that it was work-related," said Yu. I looked down at the ground.

"From a certain point of view, I suppose you could say that," I said. I swallowed hard. I had passed the point of no return. The albatross around my neck could be kept a secret no longer.

"I'm no longer a detective," I said.

"Why?" asked Yu incredulously. The news that my career in law enforcement had ended seemed almost as shocking to him as it was to me the previous month.

"The official report says that it was due to health-related difficulties," I said.

"Oh! What's wrong? Are you okay?" asked Yu, panicking. I looked back up to him.

"No! No! I'm fine now! I just came down with something one day! That's all!" I said. I felt quite bad for making Yu worry unduly.

"Oh, that's a relief," said Yu. The assuagement of his distress was audible. After taking a brief moment to regain his cool, he spoke again.

"So they let you go because you were sick for one day?" asked Yu.

"No. The truth of the matter is that Grampa used his influence to guarantee that no police prefecture would let me work for them," I said, trying to keep the rage inside me from boiling over.

"When did this happen?" asked Yu.

"Last month," I said.

"Why would he do such a thing?" asked Yu.

"He told me that I wasn't ready to be a detective. He told me that I couldn't be trusted to act responsibly enough," I said. It took all of my strength to keep my anger suppressed. I had to keep calm.

"Why would he say that?" asked Yu. There it was. The big question. I knew the truth deep in my soul, but I didn't want to say it out loud. I wanted to stay in denial. To speak it would be to kill whatever delusion I still had that I wasn't to blame for my situation. To speak it would be to acknowledge that I was wholly at fault. I couldn't keep dancing around the issue, though. It was making me more and more miserable with each passing day.

"Because I only got sick because of my own negligence. I put my health on the line over an obsession. I made on mistake, and now I have to suffer for it," I said. I could feel the tears running down my face at this point. Yu produced a few pieces of tissue paper from his bag. I took all of them from his hands and put them to my eyes. I tried to conceal as much of my face as possible. I wanted to keep the world from seeing how shameful and pathetic I must have looked.

"Everything I did, I did it in pursuit of my dream. I studied twice as hard as everyone else. I worked twice as hard as all the other detectives combined. I always did what was asked of me. I did everything I could to become perfect, but because I made one mistake, it was all for nothing," I said. It felt like a knife was being driven straight through my heart The tissues in my hand had become thoroughly saturated with my tears. Suddenly, I felt a warm, firm grip around me. Yu was hugging me. I spent a solid five minutes just crying into his chest. Eventually, my lacrimal glands hand become totally exhausted; there were simply no my tears left for me to cry. I leaned back from him, and he released me. I put the soggy mass of tissues in my pocket for me to dispose of later.

"Thank you for that. I'm sorry you had to see that," I said.

"No need to apologize, Naoto," said Yu. He was quiet for a few seconds. "So what do you plan to do now?"

"About Grampa?" I asked.

"Yeah," said Yu. To be honest, I still had no plan. I just wanted to keep dodging him at the time.

"I don't know. I've had all of this anger and sadness boiling up inside me for the past month, and I can't take it much longer. Just yesterday, Grampa and I had a fight," I said.

"Is that why you were crying yesterday?" asked Yu.

"So you did notice," I said. I wanted to keep it hidden very badly, but I suppose that I shouldn't have been surprised that Yu caught it. "Yes, it was."

"Are you going to say something to him?" asked Yu.

"No. Not if I can avoid it, anyway," I said.

"I see. Well, if you need someone to talk to at any time for any reason, just call me, okay?" said Yu. I smiled. It felt good to know that there was someone who cared about what I was going through. It felt good to know that I didn't have to shoulder my burdens alone.

"Thank you, Yu. It means a lot to me. It really does," I said. Yu stood up from the bench.

"Yes, sir, we were just on our way. No need to come at us," shouted Yu. I turned in the direction Yu was facing. He was addressing a police officer who was heading toward us. I stood from the bench. It was time to get moving again. Neither of us said anything as we completed the trip to my house. There wasn't much else that needed to be said.

"Thanks for coming with me today. I really needed to talk to someone," I said as I stood on the steps leading to my house.

"I understand completely. Can we meet again tomorrow?" said Yu.

"Yes! Yes! Absolutely!" I said. How could I refuse? It was one of the best days I had had in a long time. I turned and started to head up the steps. I assumed that we were parting ways, but before I could get far, I felt a tug on my sleeve.

"Hold on. Before I go, there's one last thing that I want to say," said Yu.

"Oh? What's that?" I asked. Yu took a few moments to gather his thoughts before speaking again.

"I just want to reemphasize how nice it is to see you again. I don't think that I did a good enough job of showing it earlier. If I may be perfectly candid for a moment, I have not had any real friends since we last saw each other in Port Island. I've been lonely for seven years. Being with you today made me feel better than I had in a long, long time. Thank you," said Yu. I felt myself tear up a little again, albeit for the opposite reason that I did earlier. Nothing else needed to be said. Yu had knowingly or not summarized both of our feelings on in a manner more poignant than I ever could have. I smiled at him and nodded, a wordless declaration of my thanks, and judging by his reaction, he understood exactly what I meant.

I headed inside, trying to make as little noise as possible. Not a sound could be heard inside, and all the lights were turned off. Through the sunlight streaming through the windows, I could see a note placed adjacent to the one I had left for Grampa that morning.

"Naoto, I have to go out. I don't know when I will be back. Leave a note as soon as you arrive at home. Do not go back outside for any reason whatsoever! I love you," read the note. Grampa's command to stay inside was underlined thrice, and its words were written much more largely than those in the other sentences. As ordered, I wrote I a note for Grampa to read whenever he got back.

"I'm back from school," read my note. I promptly went to my room, closed the door, and locked it shut. I then did what I had done every day since I arrived in Inaba: read. I have been an unabashed bibliophile of the highest order for all my life, but during my stint as a detective, there was a very little time to read for my own personal pleasure. There were simply not enough hours in the day. I still bought books during that time, however. I had to go through Hell to procure Japanese copies of some of them, but they ended up just gathering dust on my shelf. The books in my collection were the only thing that brought me any semblance of joy during my first month in Inaba. On that day, I chose to start with  _The Four Tools of Life_. It was a relatively short book; it normally wouldn't take me any time at all to finish it, but after I had finished the thirtieth page, my phone began to vibrate. I had received a text message from Yu.

"Hey, how are you?" read his message.

"JUST FINE. THX 4 ASKING," I typed.

"Really? That's how you text?" read Yu's reply. Only about seven percent of communication is verbal. Had anyone else sent such a message, I would have assumed that it was condescension, but Yu always did have a penchant for playfully teasing me, even when we were kids. I took no offense.

"I am perfectly capable of texting like this," I typed, "BUT THIS IS MUCH FASTER."

"Fair enough," texted Yu. "Anyway, it just occurred to me that I never asked how your day was."

"FRUSTRATING. HOMEROOM TEACHER IS A DRUNK AND IM SURROUNDED BY FAWNING ADULATORS," I typed. In the grand scheme of things, I suppose that it could have been a lot worse, but it definitely was not an auspicious start to the school year.

"Not keen on all of the attention, Detective Prince?" texted Yu.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT. THEY DO NOTHING OTHER THAN BEDEVIL ME WITH PERSONAL QUESTIONS. ITS WORST WITH THE GIRLS," I typed.

"Really? How so?" texted Yu.

"THEY BARELY KNOW ME YET INSIST ON MAKING ADVANCES 2 ME," I typed.

"Do they know that you're a girl?" texted Yu.

"NOT YET," I typed.

"I see. Would you prefer if I kept it under wraps?" texted Yu. Like I said, it didn't really matter at that point, but I was still hesitant to come forward with the information, and I didn't really know why. I had no qualms with being a girl per se, but I was still slightly reluctant to allow that information to come to light so soon. Being in constant fear of those details being discovered while I was among fellow detectives in Sapporo made me a tad paranoid, I suppose.

"I DONT THINK IT REALLY MATTERS. DO WHAT U WANT," I typed.

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you start dressing like a boy?" texted Yu.

"MY AGE WAS ALREADY AN OBSTACLE 2 GETTING INTO THE POLICE FORCE. BEING A GIRL MADE IT EVEN HARDER," I texted. Loath as I am to admit it, Grampa contributed much, much more toward my entry into law enforcement than I did. No police department would even entertain the idea of letting a middle schooler work for them unless they had the backing of a highly influential figure, and one would be hard-pressed to find a detective much more influential than Masaru Shirogane. That being said, even Grampa's fame has limits to its power, and the act of letting a thirteen-year-old girl be a detective was too outrageous for anyone to allow. Grampa was eventually able to persuade the Hokkaido Prefectural Police Department to employ me but only by telling them that I was a boy. My mother had to work infinitely harder than anyone else to become a detective in Port Island, so this conundrum was not unique to me.

"I see. Why are you wearing a boy's uniform?" texted Yu.

"GOT USED 2 BOYS CLOTHES. ALSO THE GIRLS SKIRTS R 2 SHORT FOR MY LIKING," I typed. Seeing the girls' uniforms at school, it astounded me how my classmates could wear them and not be embarrassed. I know that I would have, but then again, I had a very poor frame of reference for such things. "DO U MIND IF WE TALK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," texted Yu.

"NO ITS FINE. HOW WAS YOUR DAY?" I typed.

"It could have been better. My homeroom teacher is a sociopath, and it's been pretty boring over here," texted Yu.

"DONT HAVE MUCH 2 DO?" I typed.

"No. Didn't bring any books or anything to Inaba, and there's nothing good on TV," texted Yu. It may sound utterly unremarkable to most people, but the idea of not having any books sounded positively appalling to me, and knowing Yu, he must have been miserable. "I was seeing what the bookstore had to offer today, but that's not going to happen."

"I CAN LEND U SOME BOOKS FROM MY COLLECTION STARTING 2MORROW," I typed.

"Turn on the news right now," text Yu. I was completely baffled by this non-sequitur.

"WHY?" I typed.

"Just do it," texted Yu. It's rather hard to convey via text message, but Yu was trying to instill as much urgency in his words as possible. Curious as to what had gotten Yu so worked up, turned on my television.

"The deceased has been identified as Miss Mayumi Yamano, a twenty-seven-year-old announcer at the local television station. The body was found hanging from a large television antenna atop a local resident's roof. Authorities are uncertain as to why the body was in such a state. With the cause of death also uncertain, police continue to investigate whether the death is an accident or a homicide. A thick fog common to the area has slowed their progress, and plans to fully canvass the area are delayed until tomorrow," said the anchorman. That certainly answered the question as to what had sent Inaba into a state of emergency. I imagined that most residents were shocked, but I had grown desensitized to murder by that point. Innumerable murders took place every week in Sapporo, and I was personally assigned to work on dozens of them. I was simply no longer horrified by killing. That being said, every death is still a tragedy; I knew that all too well. Soon, the gears in my head started to turn. Who did it? Why? How? The detective in me sprang back to life after a month of dormancy, but I quickly pushed all thoughts of the mystery aside. Regrettably, that chapter of my life had come to an end. Yu didn't send any texts for quite some time.

"R U STILL THERE?" I typed after the commercial break came.

"Yeah, I'm here," texted Yu.

"I THINK I KNOW WHY GRAMPAS OUT NOW," I typed. While I could not say it with total certitude, my hypothesis was more than plausible given the circumstances. This raised an interesting question, though; what was so special about this murder that it caused Grampa to come out of retirement for it?

"Your grandfather's out?" texted Yu.

"YES," was all that I had to say in return. Once again, Yu didn't respond for quite a while more.

"So what are you doing?" texted Yu. Even though he was the one who brought it up, he seemed eager to move away from the subject of the murder. I was happy to oblige him.

"READING," I typed.

"Reading what?" texted Yu.

"THE FOUR TOOLS OF LIFE," I typed.

"Chester Gilberton, right?" texted Yu. His interest in detective fiction had clearly not waned over the years.

"YES," I typed.

"May I make a recommendation for when you're done with that?" texted Yu.

"GO AHEAD," I typed.

"Have you ever heard of  _The Drezno Dossier_?" texted Yu. I had been meaning to get to the series about the magic-wielding private detective for an eternity, but like I said, I never had the time.

"YES. WHATS YOUR OPINION?" I typed.

"Absolutely wonderful. Do yourself a favor, and pick them up as soon as you can," texted Yu.

"ON THE SUBJECT OF BOOKS, ARE THE NEW DETECTIVE DOYLE BOOKS ANY GOOD?" I typed. I skipped  _The Nation of the Monks_  following Yu's harsh words for it all those years ago, and it wasn't until 2009 that  _A Study in Crimson_  was published, the year after I had to give up reading for leisure.

"Not in the slightest. Remember when I told you that  _The Nation of the Monks_  was terrible? It's been straight downhill from there. They're not even enjoyable in a so-bad-they're-good kind of way anymore," texted Yu.

"MOST UNFORTUNATE," I typed. It's quite painful to see something you used to love decay into something terrible. Yu and I continued talking about books for several more hours. I had completely forgotten about finishing the book I started earlier. Grampa never did come home. I was conflicted about how I should feel about it. On the one hand, I was relieved that our confrontation could be delayed, but on the other hand, there was a murderer afoot in Inaba. I looked up at the clock on the wall. It was rather early to be going to bed. I normally could keep myself awake for many more hours, but between my early awakening that morning and the knowledge that I would have to wake at the same time the next day, I decided that it would be wise to call it a day.

"I NEED TO GO 2 BED YU," I typed.

"Why so early?" texted Yu.

"HAVE 2 GET UP EARLY," I typed.

"Alright. It was nice talking to you. I hope that you sleep well," texted Yu.

"THANKS. U 2," I typed. I was about to put the phone away, but I stopped. I had one last thing to say before I went to bed.

"HOLD ON. R U STILL THERE?" I typed.

"Yeah, why?" texted Yu. I considered my next words carefully. I thought over it and decided that I couldn't do it justice via text message. I dialed his phone number. Before he had a chance to say hello, I said my piece.

"Thanks for checking up on me. You're the only person who I feel that I can confide in. You're there for me when no one else is. I never thought that I could recover from losing my job, but being around you made me forgot all about it and made me feel like everything was going to be okay. You made me feel happy for the first time in a month. Thank you, Yu," I said. Yu had opened his heart to me earlier today, so I thought that it would only be fair for me to do the same.

"Thank you, Naoto. Good night," said Yu.

"Yes. Good night," I said before hanging up. I turned off the lights and headed to bed. I slept far, far easier than I did the previous night.

Not counting the murder, it was a better day than I had expected.


	5. Chapter Five

_"In our own time Friendship arises in the same way. For us of course the shared activity and therefore the companionship on which Friendship supervenes...may be a common religion, common studies, a common profession, even a common recreation. All who share it will be our companions; but one or two or three who share something more will be our Friends."_

-C.S. Lewis,  _The Four Loves_

* * *

**Chapter Five: Peaceful Days/Rising Action**

**Yu**

* * *

**24 April 2003**

I navigated my way through the dense crowds of Iwatodai Station, taking immense pleasure in the knowledge that my journey to Naganaki Shrine was nearly complete and that the nearly omnipresent clamor of Port Island would soon be a distant memory. I made sure to leave a little earlier than I had the past couple days. Naoto was always early anyway, so I thought that I shouldn't keep her waiting. Besides, arriving early meant that we'd have more time to spend together; both of us would benefit. As I made my way down the sidewalk, one thought kept popping into my mind: the previous night's reveal of Naoto's family's identity.

We never talked about it before then; it was never relevant. All I knew that she lived with her grandfather, nothing else. She never made even the slightest of references to her parents. I know that it may have been hasty of me to jump to this conclusion so soon, but from these two facts, I inferred that her parents had either died or had otherwise been separated from her. I had no hard evidence supporting this hypothesis, but I wasn't going to be so forward as to ask her outright; if she wanted me to know about her parents, she'd tell me. Last night's revelation, however, proved that my hypothesis was, sadly, entirely correct.

Anyway, the surprise I felt wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it was quite exciting. To know someone from the Shirogane family was a great honor. The deeds of her family had been deeply enshrined within the Japanese consciousness for generations. There existed people who didn't usually give one whit about current events who still were eager to discuss whatever the latest heinous, convoluted, or downright bizarre cases that the family of detectives had solved recently. Many of the older family members had their life's story inscribed in history books for their heroism and genius to be remembered for the rest of time. When Katsuo and Kokoro Shirogane died in a tragic accident the previous month, as far to my knowledge, Masaru Shirogane was the last of the family left living, but as it turns out, there was one more, and I had befriended her just a few days ago. A small part of me wanted to grill her for as much information on her parents' exploits; I may have been young, but given how well-documented and well-publicized her family's accomplishments were, even kids my age at least had a passing knowledge of who the Shiroganes were. It was a subject of great interest to me; tales of heroes armed with nothing but their resolve and their wits, both real and fictional, had always captivated me. Now, with all of that being said, I would not even dream of acting on my curiosity. It did not matter if Naoto had the most enthralling of insights to give me into her family's history and adventures in the realm of detective work; she had just lost her parents, and it would be beyond insensitive of me to dredge up bad memories.

I sat on the bench and placed the box containing our completed model robot on the table. Naoto was extremely hesitant to take it the previous day despite my offer. We eventually agreed to share it, and I wasn't going to take no for an answer that day; she had helped me construct that behemoth, so it was just as much hers as it was mine.

Well, I suppose it wasn't technically mine. There was actually an interesting story behind that curio. One day, I was cleaning my parent's room. Despite rarely being home, their domicile was a disaster, with books and papers strewn about everywhere, crumbs and fast food bags littering every surface, and what appeared to be ink stains and chalk dust on the desk, the floor, and even the walls. I expected no gratitude from them, and sure enough, I didn't receive any, but every time they left their door open in the morning, I caught a sight of the growing disarray in their room, and it made my skin crawl. I couldn't rest easy knowing that mess was right across from my room. I found the model kit covered in centimeters of dust under a heap of debris in the back of their closet. This find was fascinating for me, but not for the reasons that one might expect. It was an ancient, rare, and valuable piece of merchandise from an old television show fondly remembered by many, yes, but what caught my attention was the fact that it was the only sign of personality that my parents had any sort of personality or interests outside of work. I knew not whether it was my mother's or my father's. The books in their room were all related to their line of work without exception, but this one toy showed that at some point in their lives, one of them must have cared about something other than work. It raised all sorts of questions. Was it a recent purchase, or was it a relic from their childhood? Did they plan on assembling it someday but never had the time, or had they forgotten about its existence entirely? Whatever the case may have been, I hadn't touched the model since that day, but since I had found a friend who was quite fond of working with her hands, I thought that it might finally be the time to break it out. From a certain point of view, I suppose that you could say that I stole it, but it's not as though either of my parents would've missed it. That being said, I still didn't wish to divulge its origin to Naoto; revealing that I had taken a pricey piece of television history without permission to a member of Japan's most famous line of detectives would probably have been unwise.

My thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of rapid footfalls approaching me. I turned towards them and found Naoto in front of me. She was hunched over, hands on her knees, and panting harder than I had ever heard a human being do so. This continued for a worryingly long time.

"I'm so sorry; did I keep you waiting for long?" she asked in between heavy breaths. Our roles from two days ago had been reversed. It might have been amusing had I not been so concerned by her singularly severe shortness of breath. After another deep inhalation, she looked like she was about to continue with her apology, but I spoke first.

"Are you alright?" I tried to stay calm so as not cause her anxiety, but my concern was seeping into my voice.

"Yes! Yes! Absolutely!" said Naoto unconvincingly, sounding as if she was going to asphyxiate at any second.

"Are...are you having an asthma attack?" I asked, my attempts at maintaining a guise of calmness failing even harder. She looked up for just long enough to shake her head

"No, no. Don't have asthma, just not used to running. Hold on," she said as she plopped down on the bench and produced a bottle of water from backpack. She slowly downed the rather large bottle in its entirety.

"Alright. I'm okay," she said, putting the empty bottle back into her backpack. She sounded significantly better, but the whole thing was still somewhat unsettling for me. She seemed perfectly content to move on as though nothing had happened, so I chose not to press the issue.

"Okay. Good to hear," I said with a smile, trying to convince myself that what I had just witnessed wasn't supremely disturbing. I pushed the model kit across the table to her.

"Um, ah, what's this about?" asked Naoto, trying to feign ignorance. I can only assume that she was hoping that I had forgotten the deal we made the previous day, but there was never a chance that that was going to happen.

"We made an agreement. I took it home yesterday, so you get to take it home today," I said.

"Oh, ah, yes. I did agree to that, didn't I?" said Naoto, fidgeting. It was so incredibly comical to see her so nervous about something that didn't warrant it in the slightest. I had to grin at the display before me.

"Oh, so you do remember?" I said teasingly. Watching her get so flustered over something so trivial was incredibly entertaining.

"Ah, yes, and I was, ah, thinking that perhaps we could share it on a weekly basis," said Naoto. I found it difficult to believe just how loath she was to take it. It was though she thought it would be a form of theft, and that was very, very funny to me.

"I'm sorry; I didn't take you as the kind of person who would renege on a promise to a friend," I said in a mock serious tone, making Naoto all the more fidgety. I had to try with all my might to hold back some serious snickering.

"I'm not!" said Naoto, getting far, far louder than she ever had before. It took her a second to notice her very abrupt increase in volume, but once she had, her face turned several shades brighter.

"Alright. You win," said Naoto quietly. She reluctantly tucked the kit into her backpack and pulled something out. It was a chess set.

"I thought that you might like to play a game. Do you know how?" said Naoto. Everything I knew about chess, I learned from a game I picked up from a video game I purchased on a whim from the bottom of a bargain bin. It certainly wasn't worth the four hundred yen I paid for it, but it did teach me how to play chess.

"I think so, yes," I said. I really didn't have high expectations for my performance; I had never played against another human being before. Still, anything done with Naoto was fun, so I didn't really care if I was going to lose every single game I was about to play.

"White or black?" asked Naoto.

"Black's fine," I said. The skill gap between myself and her was probably too great for the first-move advantage offered by white to make any real difference. She opened the box, and I must say, I was a little surprised. It was no ordinary chess set with cheap plastic pieces and a foldable cardboard board; no, it had high-wrought and ostensibly hand-carved pieces of rosewood and mahogany and an equally ornate board. It seemed more like a display piece in a luxury goods store rather than something that was actually meant to be played.

"Help me set it up," said Naoto. Per her instruction, I began placing the black pieces into place. Consciously or not, I handled the pieces with an inordinate amount of care as if I was afraid of sullying them. As expected, the first few games ended in my crushing defeat. It wasn't even close.

"You need to control the center better, okay?" was one of Naoto's tips after my third consecutive loss.

"Don't bring your queen out so early," was a tip that came after the fourth.

"You really shouldn't move the same piece more than once in the opening," was a tip that came after the fifth. It didn't require master deductive skills to discern where Naoto had picked up her skill at and know of chess from; it was obvious that either her grandfather or her late parents must have played with her on a fairly regular basis. Naoto was a reclusive soul. The probability that she had played many games with anyone outside of her immediate family seemed rather low to me. In a way, I suppose that our matches that day for her, too. I was playing with another person for the first time, and she was sharing the experience of a game she had previously enjoyed only with her family with someone on the outside for the first time.

As the number of matches rose, so did my performance. By the eighth game, Naoto was on the defensive for the first time. I moved my bishop into position.

"Checkmate," I said. Naoto's eyes darted all over the board, looking all over the board for a way out of check, hoping that I had prematurely declared victory, but alas, she was truly beaten. She had suffered her first defeat of the day.

"Congratulations! You're getting a lot better!" she said, extending her arm across the table.

"Thanks. You're a really good teacher," I said. We shook hands, and as soon as she released me, she immediately set to work resetting the board, not even bothering to ask if I wanted to play again. She didn't display any anger or bitterness, but her defeat had ignited a fire in her eyes that I had seen for the first time the previous night while we were at the arcade. Naoto was not a sore loser; she remained polite and gracious the whole while. When she did lose, however, one could see something light up inside her. Underneath her reserved an unassuming exterior was a competitive soul who despised losing. It didn't matter if it was something completely trivial like a game at the arcade or a casual match of chess, she was determined to best everyone around her. In a way, it was actually rather admirable.

During the ninth game, Naoto was far less conversational, remaining almost totally silent as she carefully considered each and every move from every conceivable angle. The sheer intensity she displayed after only a single loss was rather humorous. I decided that I would poke a bit of harmless fun at her frustration.

"You were right! This is really easy once you get the hang of it!" I said chipperly as I moved my knight, placing her in check for the umpteenth time that game.

"Yeah. It really is," said Naoto as she feebly tried to conceal her vexation. I had to laugh a little at just how frazzled she was getting. The day ended with ten wins for Naoto, five wins for myself, and a stalemate. The sun was getting low in the sky, but Naoto was setting up the board for a seventeenth game, presumably because she didn't want to end the day on a loss.

"Your grandfather will probably be expecting you home soon," I said. Naoto looked down at her watch, looked up, and continued setting up the board.

"We still have time. One more game," said Naoto. Her competitiveness had shifted from amusing to concerning. I tried to think of something to say that would bring her to her senses.

"You know, if you're late two nights in a row, your grandfather might not let you come to the shrine tomorrow," I said. I took no pleasure in trying to emotionally manipulate her, but it was the best thing I could come up with. Very luckily for both Naoto and myself, her grandfather had been so understanding with the two of us after her late arrival the previous night, but I strongly doubted that he would be so patient if he was left waiting for a second night. Naoto immediately dropped the rook in her hand, hurriedly packed up the chess kit, and shoved it into her backpack.

"Yeah, you're probably right. See you tomorrow?" said Naoto.

"Yeah. See you tomorrow," I said. As she turned to leave, a quick thought entered my mind.

"Don't let her go just yet," I thought to myself. I don't know whether it was more motivated by the look of immense sadness and disappointment on her face or my own desire to spend more time with her that motivated me to grab her gently by the hand.

"Hold on. Can I walk you home?" I asked. Naoto turned to face me, her frown slowly being replaced by a smile.

"Yeah. I'd really like that," she said. Our conversation on the walk to the Shirogane residence was little different than our talks at the shrine; we spoke of books, video games, television shows, and random trivia. Well, it was a standard conversation until we found ourselves at about the halfway point of our walk.

"I read an article last night that said that 350,000-year-old human footprints were found in Italy," I said. Naoto did say anything for a while. She had been growing increasingly taciturn over the course of the previous fifteen minutes or so. I didn't think anything of it. Her voice was probably getting strained from all our talking and the fact that she had consumed all the contents of her water bottle long, long prior.

"Yu, are we friends?" asked Naoto. This caught me a bit off guard.

"Yes, of course! Why do you ask?" I said. At the very least, I thought we were friends. Had Naoto interpreted our relationship differently than I had?

"It's just that, well," Naoto stopped in her tracks and began fidgeting in place, "we talk a lot, and we have fun together, and I think you're really cool. I just, well..."

"You just what?" I asked.

"I don't know what being friends is about. Is there something I'm doing wrong?" said Naoto. She looked at me with a mixture of embarrassment and concern. I had no idea what brought on this bout of contemplation on her part, but whatever was on her mind seemed to be genuinely affecting her.

"No, not at all, and to be honest with you, I don't really know what being friends is about, either," I said. Philosophers have the true meaning of human affection and friendship for millennia without reaching any sort of consensus; it was unreasonable to expect two elementary schoolers to have any truly profound or novel insights on the matter, but this line of conversation really got me thinking. I liked Naoto, and she ostensibly liked me, but does mutual liking constitute friendship, or is there something more to it? I supposed that it varies from person to person, and most seemed to just be able to sense what a friendship is. Naoto and I seemed to lack that ability. I cannot speak for her, but personally, even though I had known her for less than a week by that point, I felt a stronger connection to Naoto than to anyone else I had ever met before; our commonality of interests was enough for me. I never thought about how curious that was before then; all it took was a few mutual tastes to dissolve the barriers of two lonely souls.

"I mean, we don't just like the same things. Don't you think there's more to it?" I said.

"What do you mean?" asked Naoto.

"Well, it's just that, you know," I began, tripping over my words badly. There was an ineffable quality to our friendship. It was hard enough to describe it to myself, let alone another person. After trying and failing to explain my feelings simply, I decided that I would just say whatever came to mind first.

"It's just that I think that you're easier to talk to than anyone else I had ever met before. I don't feel stressed or uncomfortable when I'm around you. I never feel hesitant to say what's on my mind to you. Do you get what I'm saying?" I said. In hindsight, I must have sounded incredibly mawkish to the casual listener but my words must have touched Naoto deeply judging by how her expression changed.

"Yes. Yes I do because I feel the same way about you," said Naoto softly. As if guided by instinct, we both opened our arms simultaneously and shared the briefest of hugs. Despite being a totally impulsive and unprecedented act, we both broke from the hug feeling no embarrassment or regret from it. Our line of conversation returned to more typical things following that very short period of reflection on the nature of our relationship and of friendship in general. We were less than a kilometer away from our destination when I noticed something quite peculiar about the neighborhood that Naoto lived in. That is, the houses in this part of Port Island were extravagant beyond measure. My family was not poor by any stretch of the imagination, but I knew immediately that there wasn't even the slightest of chances that we could ever afford to live in such a neighborhood. This was no doubt the dwelling place of wealthy executives and powerful politicians. I was in too much of a hurry the previous night to pay it any mind, but I was quite surprised that the Shirogane family called this place home. I knew that the family were legends in their field, but law enforcement never struck me as an overly lucrative field.

"This place certainly is fancy," I said.

"Oh? I guess so," said Naoto nonchalantly. I suppose that one wouldn't really find it quite as impressive as I did if they had lived there for their entire life like Naoto. We arrived at the doorstep of the Shirogane residence. "Palatial" is the term that I would use to describe it.

"I had a nice time today, Yu," said Naoto.

"Yeah. Me too," I said. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Of course," responded Naoto. I was just about to turn to head on home, but before Naoto could even take the keys out of her pocket, the door swung open in a very violent fashion.

"Welcome home, Naoto!" said Naoto's grandfather cheerfully. "I see that you brought Yu along again!"

"Ah, yes," said Naoto, obviously surprised by her grandfather's sudden and very loud appearance. Naoto's grandfather looked over at me, smiling.

"It's quite a long way from the shrine, isn't it? You must be tired, Yu. Would you like to have a sit before you head on home?" said Naoto's grandfather.

"Ah, sure! Sure!" I said. The fact of the matter was that, no, it wasn't an overly long walk, and no, I wasn't exceptionally tired, but I desperately didn't want to offend Detective Shirogane by snubbing hospitality. This fear was misplaced, certainly, but a person of his degree of eminence can easily unnerve a young child, intentionally or not.

"Wonderful! Wonderful!" said Naoto's grandfather exuberantly. I saw the Naoto was rather surprised by the fact that her grandfather had offered to allow me inside and that I had accepted the offer, but she didn't seem overly distressed or uncomfortable because of it. I followed the two of them inside into a large yet tastefully decorated foyer. Given the lavishness of the neighborhood and the size of the Shirogane estate, I formed a mental image of a garish display of affluence to be found within the inside before entering, but it appeared as though the Shiroganes were far more tactful in their spending habits than I had predicted. I was in the process of closing the door behind me when Naoto's grandfather spoke again.

"Naoto, I was going to make curry for dinner, but we're out of rice. Would you mind going out to get some?" said Naoto's grandfather. His need for rice may have been legitimate, but his underlying motive for making this request was so incredibly transparent; he wanted to have a private discussion with me. I knew it, and it was extremely likely that Naoto knew it, too.

"Well, ah, I," Naoto began.

"I've already put the pork on to cook. I'm afraid I can't go out now," said Naoto's grandfather. Naoto seemed to deliberate for a moment before finally giving her decision.

"Alright. I'll go," said Naoto, lo at me rather than her grandfather. There was a deeply apologetic look in her eyes as she spoke. Before I could say anything, Naoto headed out the door, gently closing it once she was outside.

"Have a seat anywhere you like, Yu," said Naoto's grandfather. I was far too afraid of offending him to do otherwise, so I simply sat in the armchair nearest the coffee table.

"Thank you, sir," I said. He chuckled.

"Why are you so tense? Relax a little. I've got a pot of coffee on. Would you like some?" said Naoto's grandfather. He sounded genuinely confused as to why I was so nervous; he was totally unaware of the air of authority he exuded.

"Ah, sure, sure," I said.

"I'll be back in a moment," said Naoto's grandfather. He headed through the door that presumably led to the kitchen. I glanced around the room as I waited. What caught my eyes above all the décor were the two urns placed on the mantel, a reminder of the tragedy that had wracked the Shiroganes lives not too long prior.

"Here you are," said Naoto's grandfather returning from the kitchen with two large mugs in hand. He placed one in front of me.

"Ah, thank you very much, sir!" It should be noted that I had never tasted coffee prior to that day. I had several opportunities to try it, but I never took advantage of any of them. The contents of the hot cup in my hands smelled heavenly, so I didn't hesitate to take a large gulp of the drink. This was a mistake; the supremely bitter taste of the coffee washed over my tongue, and I had to fight the urge to spit it back into the cup. My adverse reaction to the drink was apparently visible, as Naoto's grandfather let out a slight laugh.

"I think that was my reaction when I had coffee for the first time. It really is an acquired taste. Would you like some cream for it?" said Naoto's grandfather.

"Please, sir," I said.

"Okay. I'll be back momentarily," said Naoto's grandfather. After a short trip back into the kitchen, he emerged with a small bottle of creamer. Sure enough, the coffee was infinitely more tolerable after a decent amount of cream was added.

"Thank you very much, sir," I said.

"You are very welcome," said Naoto's grandfather. He seemed content to continue on with the pleasantries indefinitely, but Naoto would probably not be gone for very much longer; I had to know whatever it was that was so important that he had to get me alone to discuss.

"So what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" I asked.

"Oh, not much, really. I just wanted to express my gratitude," said Naoto's grandfather. He leaned forward in his chair.

"Your gratitude?" I said confusedly. Between that night and the previous night, I had had less than ten minutes of total contact with him. What exactly did I do to deserve gratitude?

"Yes. I'll be upfront with you; I never imagined that things could have returned to normal following the...unfortunate incident last month. You know of what I speak, correct?" said Naoto's grandfather.

"Yes. Yes, I do," I said, briefly throwing another quick glance towards the mantelpiece.

"Naoto is the only family I have left. I could not bear to see my granddaughter in such a state of misery and hopelessness. I have tried my best to raise her since she lost her parents, but no matter what I have done, she only sank further and further into despair," said Naoto's grandfather. He grew more emotional with each word; by the end, I could vaguely make out wateriness in his eyes.

"I, ah, see," I said somberly. Naoto's grandfather was doing a very good job of illustrating the effect that the loss of her parents had on Naoto, and to her grandfather's anguish was beginning to rub off on me. I never imagined that I would ever see the great Masaru Shirogane on the brink of tears, but there I was.

"And then you came along. You succeeded where I failed. You were able to vanquish the dark depression draining the life from my beloved granddaughter, and for that, I am eternally grateful," said Naoto's grandfather. I was at a loss for words. I knew my friendship meant a great deal to Naoto; that had already been firmly established, but I didn't realize the extent to which I had managed to affect not only her but her grandfather as well. I was filled with both a quiet sense of pride and great delight and relief by this revelation.

"Yu, I know nothing about you beyond what Naoto has told me, but for the great service you have done to us, you shall forever be welcome here," said Naoto's grandfather. He extended his hand.

"I, um, ah, thank you, sir," I said as I shook his hand.

"No, thank you," said Naoto's grandfather. A few short seconds after he released me from his firm grasp, the door slowly creaked open.

"I'm back," said Naoto, shopping bag in hand.

"Welcome back, Naoto!" said Naoto's grandfather, abruptly dropping his solemn and serious demeanor. He took the shopping bag from Naoto's once she was within his reach.

"Yes, yes. This will do nicely. Thank you very much, Naoto!" said Naoto's grandfather.

"So, ah, what were you two talking about?" asked Naoto nervously.

"Oh, we were just having a nice chat. Nothing major," I said. I did my best to put on an air of calmness, trying to reassure Naoto that her grandfather hadn't delivered some sort of castigation or intense interrogation that she probably suspected.

"Ah, that's nice," said Naoto, audibly relieved. I stood from my chair. I was prepared to say my goodbyes, but I didn't get the chance.

"Yu, the curry shouldn't be much longer. If your family wouldn't mind, of course, you're more than welcome to dine with us," said Naoto's grandfather.

"Yes, I'd like that very much," I said sincerely. Both Naoto's and her grandfather's faces seemed to light up at my response. That night was filled with stimulating conversation, exhilarating anecdotes from Naoto's grandfather, and very, very delicious curry.

In other words, it was the first truly enjoyable dinnertime of my life.

* * *

**12 April 2011**

Throughout the entire walk back to the Dojima residence, I had a wide smile on my face, a stark contrast to the anxious expressions the other pedestrians' faces bore. I meant no exaggeration when I told Naoto that that day was the best that I had had in seven years. It's strange; we did nothing else besides talk, but it still brought me more happiness than anything else had in a long, long time. No luxury nor recreation could match the feeling of meeting my dearest friend once more. My mind was not on our inevitable separation that would come in March. No, I was thinking about all of the fun things we would be doing in the coming year. When I left Port Island seven years ago, I carried so many regrets about all the things we promised that we'd do together but never got the chance to. I had finally been given the opportunity to set things right.

When I walked through the front door of the house, I saw Nanako plopped in her usual spot near the television. Dojima was conspicuously absent, but that hardly came as a surprise; given the events of the day, it would actually have been stranger if he had been home. The television was tuned to the local news station, and Nanako was watching very intensely. Current events are rarely a topic of interest for elementary schoolers, but considering that the entirety of the town's police force, doubtlessly including her father, had been dispatched around town, I can see why she might have been singularly interested that particular day. The anchorman was droning on and on about the town economy, agriculture, and other subjects of no relevance to the biggest story of the day, no doubt frustrating everyone watching from home, but nevertheless, Nanako continued to stare at the screen, patiently waiting for word of what her father was involved in to arrive.

"Good afternoon, Nanako," I said.

"Hello," said Nanako, not looking away from the television for even a moment. I decided not to bother with any further pleasantries. Nanako was understandably in no mood to talk. It would be rude of me to pester her, right? I sat at the kitchen table and contemplated how I should spend the evening. I brought no books nor anything else to occupy myself to Inaba. I was hoping to stop by the bookstore after I finished grocery shopping that day, but whatever happening that had sent the police into a panic that day dashed both of those plans. I sifted through the assortment of items cluttering up the table, trying to determine if any of the magazines among them were worth reading. Sadly, all of them seemed to be old mail-order catalogs. With a sigh, I put the last catalog aside and fixed my gaze upon the living room television. I spent an embarrassingly long time listening to the anchor talk about the condition of Inaba's pottery industry before I came to the realization that I didn't have to sit at the house and be bored. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. In my hand, I held a direct means of contacting the single most interesting person in my world. Finally, after seven years, the first and last person who I ever shared any meaningful connection with, who shared innumerable interests, dreams, thoughts, and feelings with me, who I could share my most closely guarded secrets with was just a few button presses away. For a brief moment, I nervously planned how I should initiate the conversation, but I very swiftly forced my worried thoughts aside. I had no excuse to continue being such a bumbling, socially awkward clod. It had been firmly established that day that I had absolutely no justification to be even the slightest bit anxious around Naoto. We talked, joked, and had fun like the close friends that we were, and besides, if I could open my heart to Naoto like I had earlier, I could certainly send her a text message.

"Hey, how are you?" I typed. It didn't take long to get a response.

"JUST FINE. THX 4 ASKING," read her reply. I must say, it elicited a small chuckle from me. Naoto, the girl who, even from childhood, tried her hardest to be decorous and prim, texted in such a casual and informal manner.

"Really? That's how you text?" I replied.

"I am perfectly capable of texting like this, BUT THIS IS MUCH FASTER," texted Naoto, getting another slight chuckle out of me.

"Fair enough. Anyway, it just occurred to me that I never asked how your day was," I typed. I spent an awful lot of time talking about myself, not really giving Naoto much of a chance to talk. Then again, it might have been for the best. Naoto had had a rough month to say the very least. Perhaps she wasn't ready to divulge the finer details of her life. Hopefully, asking about something innocuous like school would take her mind off of things.

"FRUSTRATING. HOMEROOM TEACHER IS A DRUNK AND IM SURROUNDED BY FAWNING ADULATORS," replied Naoto. I could certainly relate to the experience of having a terrible homeroom teacher. The second half of the text, however, surprised me a little. Even far away from Sapporo, I heard whispers on the trains, in the streets, and in the classroom about the Detective Prince. Admirers of hers could be found in every major city in Japan, but I never expected that fans could be found all the way in Inaba. I suppose that even deep in the heart of the nation's countryside, the stories of her exploits as Japan's great teenage detective were known and lauded.

"Not keen on all of the attention, Detective Prince?" I typed.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT. THEY DO NOTHING OTHER THAN BEDEVIL ME WITH PERSONAL QUESTIONS. ITS WORST WITH THE GIRLS," replied Naoto. I suppose that if I were to find myself in her position, I would be somewhat annoyed, too. The thought of having people crowd around and try to pry information about my private life out of me did not sound appealing in the slightest. The bit about the girls, however, mystified me. I never really gave it much thought, but the overwhelming majority of people who gushed about Naoto's latest media appearance were teenage girls.

"Really, how so?" I typed.

"THEY BARELY KNOW ME YET INSIST ON MAKING ADVANCES 2 ME," replied Naoto. It made quite a bit of sense, I suppose. Naoto certainly wasn't unattractive; perhaps there was a certain degree of infatuation that spurred the rapid formation of her fanbase. It's rather surprising that I had never looked at the matter from that angle earlier.

"Do they know that you're a girl?" I typed. Ever since Naoto made her first television appearance in 2008, the media had always presented herself as male to the public, and she never made any effort to correct them. I always wondered what motivated that pretense that had lasted for nearly three years.

"NOT YET," replied Naoto. That just raised another question; why was the facade still being maintained?

"I see. Would you prefer if I kept it under wraps?" I typed. Even if her motives were a mystery to me, it was my duty to keep the secret a secret if she so desired, right?

"I DONT THINK IT REALLY MATTERS. DO WHAT U WANT," replied Naoto. The questions continued to multiply. She wasn't opposed to the idea of the truth coming to light, yet she either didn't want to or didn't care enough to divulge it herself even though it would most likely resolve or at the very least reduce the troubles she was having with her pursuers. Why? I was content to leave the matter alone at first, but I could no longer contain my curiosity.

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you start dressing like a boy?" I typed. There was a very short yet still noticeable delay between my question and her response.

"MY AGE WAS ALREADY AN OBSTACLE 2 GETTING INTO THE POLICE FORCE. BEING A GIRL MADE IT EVEN HARDER," replied Naoto. I took a moment to consider her words. They brought to mind questions about how she initially secured her job as a police detective. I never doubted for a moment that she would be capable in such a position, but how exactly she managed to procure it still eluded me. In my mind, I pictured various police departments snubbing Naoto for the pettiest and most foolish of reasons, depriving them of a brilliant mind until Naoto was forced to use deception to even get her foot in the door. I desperately wanted the details of her entry into law enforcement, but I restrained myself. Asking Naoto about it while the wound was still fresh would be cruel of me.

"I see. Why are you wearing a boy's uniform?" I typed.

"GOT USED 2 BOYS CLOTHES. ALSO THE GIRLS SKIRTS R 2 SHORT FOR MY LIKING," replied Naoto. Once more, she unintentionally amused me with her words.

"DO U MIND IF WE TALK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE?" texted Naoto. I immediately regretted bringing the topic up.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," I typed.

"NO ITS FINE," texted Naoto. Despite her words, I still felt a bit guilty. "HOW WAS YOUR DAY?"

"It could have been better. My homeroom teacher is a sociopath, and it's pretty boring over here," I typed.

"DONT HAVE MUCH 2 DO?" texted Naoto.

"No. I didn't bring any books or anything to Inaba, and there's nothing good on TV. I was planning on seeing what the bookstore had to offer today, but that's not going to happen," I typed.

"I CAN LEND U SOME BOOKS FROM MY COLLECTION STARTING 2MORROW," texted Naoto. Hers was a highly generous offer. She and I had similar tastes, and I was eager to see what sort of books she had added to her collection in the past seven years. I was about to respond I the affirmative, but my train of thought was wholly derailed from what I overheard on the television.

"Our top story this evening concerns a bizarre case in a quiet suburb. Around noon today, a woman was found dead near the Samegawa River in Inaba," said the anchorman.

"Turn on the news right now," I typed.

"WHY?" texted Naoto.

"Just do it," I typed. I put the phone down and focused my attention on the news story.

"The deceased has been identified as Miss Mayumi Yamano, a twenty-seven-year-old announcer at the local television station. The body was found hanging from a large television antenna atop a local resident's roof. Authorities are uncertain as to why the body was in such a state. With the cause of death also uncertain, police continue to investigate whether the death is an accident or a homicide. A thick fog common to the area has slowed their progress, and plans to fully canvass the area have been delayed until tomorrow," said the anchorman.

"I think that it's safe to say that it was a homicide," I thought to myself; most people watching were probably thinking the same thing. It's rather difficult for a body to end up in such a state without conscious action at the hands of a cold-blooded killer. When I looked away for a moment, I could see Nanako, previously staring unblinkingly at the television, hunched over, breathing heavily, with her left hand pressed against her chest and her right arm around her stomach. I immediately abandoned the conversation I was having with Naoto and rushed over towards Nanako.

"Are you okay?" I asked worriedly.

"No, no. Everything's fine. Dad's going to be fine. It's his job. He'll be fine," said Nanako, hyperventilating the whole time. Her denial was as unconvincing as it sounds. I wondered to myself if this was the first time that Nanako had ever heard of a murder taking place in her hometown. How often did murders take place in Inaba? It certainly couldn't have been as often as in the metropolises of Japan that I was accustomed to. If so, the worry she felt was perfectly logical. If she was used to her father working on cases of petty crime, theft, burglaries, and the like, the idea that he was trailing a murderer must've come as quite a shock to her. She had lost her mother already, and now her father's work thrust him into a situation where the risk of mortal harm was greater than anything he had faced in Nanako's lifetime.

"Nanako, have you ever had an anxiety attack before?" I asked, trying to remain calm. If I lost my composure, that would no doubt make Nanako's panic even worse. Nanako looked at me confusedly, answering my question.

"Bring both of your hands over your mouth in a cup shape, okay?" I said. Nanako obeyed, her hands shaking slightly as she lifted them. I rushed over to the window, opened it, allowing the cool night air to cool the room.

"Okay, Nanako, just lay down and breathe," I said. I moved one of the pillows on the floor so that she could comfortably rest her head.

"Everything is going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay," I whispered to Nanako trying to soothe her. I stayed by her side for several minutes. Slowly, Nanako's breathing returned to normal and the shaking in her body subsided. Once the panic attack had run its course, Nanako dropped her hands to her side, and with great effort, she brought herself up into a sitting position.

"Are you feeling okay now?" I asked. After a short pause, Nanako spoke.

"Yes. I'm fine," said Nanako, not terribly persuasively.

"Are you sure? Do you need anything? Something to eat or drink?" I asked.

"No, no. I'm fine. I'm just really tired," said Nanako. She rose to her feet and began walking towards the stairs, her gait slightly wobbly.

"Alright, but if you need anything whatsoever, just come and get me," I called from behind her. She simply turned and nodded. When she finally reached the stairs, she stopped and after a few seconds of motionlessness, she turned around.

"Hey. Thanks for taking care of me," she said. It was a little difficult to tell, but I thought I saw a small smile on her face that filled me with great relief that I was able to help her in a time of great duress. She turned back around and ascended the stairs. As I got up the shut the windows, I heard my phone vibrating on the kitchen table. Honestly, I had completely forgotten the ongoing conversation I was having with Naoto.

"R U STILL THERE?" read her message.

"Yeah, I'm here," I quickly replied.

"I THINK I KNOW WHY GRAMPAS OUT NOW," texted Naoto.

"Your grandfather's out?" I typed.

"YES," replied Naoto. While she didn't say it outright, she was implicitly suggesting that her grandfather had chosen to involve himself in the police investigation. I wondered to myself what Naoto must have thought of that. Despite their recent falling-out, she must have been concerned for her grandfather's well-being, right? Three years ago, his declining health and ensuing retirement had made national news; it was the end of Japan's greatest living detective's decades-long career, but now he had made the abrupt decision to return to the line of duty? Her grandfather's capricious disregard for his health must have been quite distressing for Naoto, right? I wanted to continue the line of discussion so badly, but I knew that I should not dig any deeper into this line of discussion. I considered steering the discussion in the direction of the homicide, but I reject that idea almost instantly. After seeing my cousin suffer a panic attack because of it, the matter left quite a sour taste in mouth; it would be a topic for another day. I decided to stick with something harmless.

"So what are you doing?" I typed.

"READING," replied Naoto.

"Reading what?" I typed.

"THE FOUR TOOLS OF LIFE," replied Naoto.

"Chester Gilberton, right?" I typed.

"YES," replied Naoto.

"May I make a recommendation for when you're done with that?" I typed.

"GO AHEAD," texted Naoto.

"Have you ever heard of  _The Drezno Dossier_?" I typed.

"YES. WHATS YOUR OPINION?" replied Naoto.

"Absolutely wonderful. Do yourself a favor, and pick them up as soon as you can," I replied. I had to suppress the urge to rave about the merits of the franchise.

"ON THE SUBJECT OF BOOKS, ARE THE NEW DETECTIVE DOYLE BOOKS ANY GOOD?" texted Naoto. I frowned a little. After six years on hiatus, the series returned only produce multiple truly awful insults to the older books every year, and I read every one of them hoping in vain for a return to form that would never come.

"Not in the slightest. Remember when I told you that  _The Nation of the Monks_ was terrible? It's been straight downhill from there. They're not even enjoyable in a so-bad-they're-good kind of way anymore," I replied.

"MOST UNFORTUNATE," replied Naoto. What followed was a lengthy discussion on the various books we had read over the past seven years. Many would find this incredibly tedious, but I felt an intense wave of nostalgia as we dug deeper and deeper into our literary interests. It really was just like the days in Port Island where we could talk about our hobbies, recent happenings in our lives, and the most random of things until sunset and derive immense pleasure from doing so. The stresses in life faded from my mind.

"I NEED 2 GO 2 BED YU," texted Naoto. It caught me a little off guard. It just came out of the blue. I was in the middle of filling her in on the great works she missed out on in the three years since she put aside reading to focus her attention on her career, and she was eagerly receiving my words until at that moment. I checked the time. Hours had passed. I was quite surprised that the conversation had lasted that long as it did; it certainly didn't feel that long. That being said, it could hardly be considered the proper time to head off to sleep; the sun had just recently sunk beneath the horizon.

"Why so early?" I typed.

"HAVE 2 GET UP EARLY," replied Naoto. I racked my brain, trying to think of whatever reason Naoto would have to get up early. I thought up several scenarios, but the only one that seemed particularly likely was that she didn't want to see her grandfather in the morning. I grew worried. How long was this avoidance of all contact going to last? Days? Weeks? Longer? Keeping it up would only hurt her more in the long run, but it wouldn't be right of me to intervene, would it? It wasn't my place, right? I decided not to force the issue, but I hoped deep in my heart that Naoto would be able to resolve the matter soon.

"Alright. It was nice talking to you. I hope that you sleep well," I typed.

"THANKS. U 2," texted Naoto. I slipped the phone into my pocket, feeling a little sad. Talking to Naoto had been fun, and I didn't want it to end. Suddenly, I felt the phone in my pocket vibrate. I pulled it back out.

"HOLD ON. R U STILL THERE?" read Naoto's message.

"Yeah, why?" I replied. Naoto was silent for a long, long time. After a while, I started to suspect that she had lost connection. I was just about ready to put my phone away when a loud ringing came from my phone. It was Naoto. It certainly was odd; she had no problem communicating via text message earlier. I answered the phone. She spoke before I even had time to greet her although I suppose it really wasn't necessary at that point.

"Thanks for checking up on me. You're the only person who I feel that I can confide in. You're there for me when no one else is. I never thought that I could recover from losing my job, but being around you made me forget all about it and made me feel like everything was going to be okay. You made me feel happy for the first time in a month. Thank you, Yu," said Naoto. It should be noted that I can be a huge sap at times, and that was one such time. Had we had been having that conversation face-to-face, she would have seen the dumb smile on my face and my teary eyes, and I might never have heard the end of it.

"Thank you, Naoto. Good night," I said.

"Yes. Good night," said Naoto. After she hung up, I let out a sigh and placed the phone in my pocket. With Dojima gone, Naoto and Nanako off to bed, a total absence of reading material, and nothing of interest on the television, I resigned myself to my room.

* * *

**13 April 2011**

I awoke from a dreamless sleep; a welcome change from the previous night's vision of the foggy corridor. When I reached the bottom floor, I noticed that Nanako's shoes were already gone, comforting my mind immensely. The effects of a panic attack rarely last for any significant period of time, let alone an entire night; despite knowing this, however, I couldn't help but worry about Nanako's condition throughout the entire duration of my morning rituals. Not feeling especially hungry that morning, I put on my shoes and set out for school. I spent a few minutes lost in thought as I walked, but before I could even make it to the halfway point, the same discordant squeaking noise from yesterday began approaching from behind. I didn't even have the opportunity to turn around when the brown-haired boy came whizzing by me on his yellow bicycle. Despite that morning's lack of rain, he seemed to be having greater difficulty controlling his bike than he did the previous day. After making an unintended swerve to the right, he made contact with a green trash can on the side of the road, hitting it at just the right speed and angle to launch himself forwards into it.

"Someone help! Please!" I thought I heard him scream from inside the trash can; it was rather difficult to tell. Regardless, I ran up to the toppled trash can and tried to pull it off him. After the first tug on it, I realized just how tight the fit was. The boy had managed to get himself stuck in the narrowest possible opening that his body could conceivably fit in. I didn't believe in luck, but I must admit, that boy could attract ill fortune like no one else. I pulled and pulled, but no matter how hard I tried, the trash can refused to budge. His intense squirming and struggling certainly didn't make things any easier.

"It's okay. I've got you, but I need you to calm down," I said to him to no effect. It was unlikely that he could hear me. I was on the brink of giving up and calling for emergency services to help the boy escape from his foul-smelling prison, but with one last mighty pull, the trash can flew off him. The boy looked a bit dazed for a moment.

"I'm out?" said the boy perplexedly, as if he couldn't believe that he had freed.

"Yeah, you're out," I said. After a few more seconds of confusion, the boy looked positively elated and jumped to his feet. I must say, he was surprisingly spry for someone who had gotten himself injured three times in two days. He picked his fallen bike up. Upon closer inspection, I got to see how truly heinous the condition of his bike was. The chain was badly rusted and looked to be on the verge of breaking apart, the pedals looked like they were about to fall off, and the breaks looked like the shouldn't be functioning at all, just to name a few of the many, many problems with his bike. I hadn't really paid much attention to it the previous day; my mind was on other things, but after I got a good, long look at it, I couldn't help but cringe at the sight of that ancient, rapidly degrading piece of junk.

"You really saved me there. Thanks, um," the boy said, pausing for a few seconds as he tried to recall my name. "Yu! Yeah, Yu!"

"No problem," I said to him, extending my hand.

"I'm Yosuke Hanamura. Nice to meet you," said Yosuke as he shook my hand.

"Nice to meet you, too," I said.

"Come on, walk with me," said Yosuke.

"Alright," I said. He seemed amicable enough, and I wasn't in any real hurry, so I thought that I might was well make another attempt at making new friends after the situation with Chie and Yukiko didn't really go anywhere the previous day.

"If you don't mind, can I make a suggestion?" I said as we continued the journey to school.

"Shoot," said Yosuke.

"You really need to get rid of that bicycle. It's really not safe," I said. Yosuke frowned.

"Yeah, I know; it's just that I've been saving up for a motorcycle, and this is all I've got for now," said Yosuke. The bike was in such a state that repairing it would probably be even more costly than just buying a new one, so from a fiscal perspective, his decision to keep the bike perfect sense; that being said, that still didn't change the fact that he might kill himself one day if he kept riding it.

"I understand, but nonetheless, you would probably be better off if you started walking to school," I said.

"Alright, Mom," said Yosuke jokingly. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke again.

"Say, did you hear about the incident from yesterday? They found that announcer lady hanging from an antenna!" said Yosuke.

"Yeah, I saw it on the news last night," I said.

"You think it was some kinda warning? There's no way something that weird could've been an accident," said Yosuke.

"I don't know if it was a warning, but yeah, it definitely wasn't accidental," I said. Yosuke thought for a moment.

"Man, killing someone and dangling their body over a roof like that...That's just messed up," said Yosuke.

"You can say that again," I said. There was another pause.

"So, you're from the city, huh?" asked Yosuke, apparently wishing to move away from the subject of the murder.

"Yeah," I said.

"I'm originally from the city, too, you know," said Yosuke.

"Really now? Where specifically?" I asked.

"Yokohama. My dad got a job as Junes's branch manager out here, so we had to move six months ago," said Yosuke.

"A very interesting coincidence," I thought to myself. I certainly could relate to the experience of having to abandon one's home because of one's parents' occupational obligations.

"What about you? What brings you out here?" asked Yosuke.

"Kind of the same reason as yours. My parents have business in America, so they sent me to live with my uncle," I said.

"Huh. You seem awfully cool with it," said Yosuke. I shrugged.

"I've had to move every year since I was ten. I'm used to it," I said.

"No, I mean about your parents. I mean, they're in a different country," said Yosuke. His words actually made me think of something I had never really considered; at what point in my life did I stop caring about my parents? When I was a child, even though I had little to no contact with them, I still cared about them and the idea of being separated by an ocean from them would've devastated me, but as I got older, I became totally apathetic towards my parents and their affairs. Was it result of some specific event that finally broke whatever emotional ties we still had, or was it a gradual thing, the culmination of years of frustration at their chronic absence? Did it make me a bad person that cared not one iota about my parents? These were very intriguing questions, but I pushed them out of my mind. It wasn't as if answering them would make a difference in the slightest.

"I'm not really close to them," I said. Sensing that I did not want to dwell on the subject of my parents any further, Yosuke changed the subject.

"So, uh, what do think about Inaba? You getting used to it yet?" asked Yosuke.

"I'd say so. From what I've seen so far, I'd say it's nice and peaceful," I said.

"Heh. That was awfully fast," said Yosuke with a chuckle.

"And what about you? You've been here longer than I have. What do you think of Inaba?" I asked.

"Well, I gotta say, it's got that certain...something about it that you can't find anywhere else, but it's just so quiet, you know?" said Yosuke.

"You say that as though it's a bad thing," I said without giving it much thought. It didn't even consider until later that Yosuke might not have been like me. Not everyone perceives the chaos and noise of urban life as a great bother. Yosuke was not like me; whereas I hid away on the desolate outskirts of the city trying to get away from the commotion and the crowds, Yosuke seemed to want to be in the very center of it all. He was in dire need of the stimulation. For me, the transition from urban to rural life was a blessing; for Yosuke, it was a curse. Yosuke frowned.

"Well, I guess it can be good sometimes, but it's just so boring. There's just not a lot going on here. Do you get where I'm coming from?" said Yosuke seeming somewhat abraded.

"I guess. To each his own," I said.

"So, what do you like to do for fun?" asked Yosuke.

"Read, mostly," I said. Yosuke raised his eyebrows in disbelief as if he had never met another person whose primary hobby was of the literary persuasion.

"Don't you ever go out? Hit the town? Anything like that?" asked Yosuke. I shrugged

"I go to the arcade sometimes, but other than that, not really," I said. This got a laugh out of Yosuke.

"You know, at first I thought you might have a hard time in Inaba, but I guess you'll do just fine here!" said Yosuke jovially. Tell you what; if you ever need some excitement, I'll show you all the good places in town, okay?"

"Sounds good," I said. Yosuke and I made small talk for the rest of the walk to school. As far as I could discern, we didn't really share much in common; my first impressions of him were of someone much more extroverted and animated than I was. That being said, he wasn't an unpleasant person and certainly wasn't dull. I decided that I wouldn't be opposed to spending time with him at some point in the future. I know that this sounds really sad and pathetic, but I really did consider my ability to socialize adequately with Yosuke to be a major accomplishment. I was never exactly a social butterfly. I wasn't wholly detached from all human interaction, mind you, but, with the exception of Naoto, it was seldom that I could carry a prolonged conversation with one of my peers.

"Listen, man, I want to say again that you really helped me out earlier," said Yosuke as we arrived at the school gates.

"Like I said, it was no problem," I said.

"No, really. If you hadn't come along, I don't know what I would've done," said Yosuke. "So I want to repay you."

"That's really not necessary," I said.

"There's this place that sells the best grilled steak for cheap. We'll go after school, my treat," said Yosuke. He was awfully generous with his money for someone who was supposedly saving up for a motorcycle.

"No, I mean it. You don't have to repay me," I said.

"I'm not gonna take no for answer," said Yosuke with a smile. "I'd feel bad if I didn't thank you somehow."

"Alright, fine," I said with a sigh, "but can I ask you one thing?"

"Go ahead," said Yosuke.

"Do you mind if I bring a friend?" I asked. I really wanted to spend time with Naoto that evening if possible, and I would be remiss if I didn't at least extend the invitation to dine alongside myself and Yosuke. Yosuke's eagerness was replaced with great reluctance, presumably because he was feeling gracious enough to treat one person to dinner yet not quite gracious enough to treat two.

"We can pay for ourselves, you really don't have to..." I began before being cut off.

"No, no. They can come. I'd like to meet them," said Yosuke. The hesitance in his voice was audible. I wanted to assert again that he didn't have to pay for us, but it seemed as though he wasn't going to relent on that point, and I didn't really feel like arguing. I proceeded to the school, and Yosuke headed over to the bike rack.

* * *

Everyone's eyes were fixed on the clock, eagerly anticipating the moment that lunch would come and that we would be free of Mister Morooka. He was allegedly here to teach us philosophy, but he did little real teaching. He would go around the room asking questions that went beyond the scope of a high school level philosophy class, get angry when someone answered incorrectly, and explain the correct answer in the most condescending fashion possible. It seemed as though he was deliberately choosing whoever looked to most nervous. It just so happened that it was Yosuke who fit this description most frequently.

"Hey, Hanamura!" said Mister Morooka. "Why don't you tell the class what names Immanuel Kant gave to propositions that didn't rely on experience versus those that did?"

"Well, uh, um," stammered Yosuke for a few seconds.

"Well? Spit it out!" said Mister Morooka, looking particularly smug. Yosuke sighed.

"I don't know," said Yosuke tiredly. Mister Morooka scowled.

"Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic, but then again, I guess I really shouldn't expect anything more from you," said Mister Morooka. It was rather hypocritical of him to call anyone pathetic when his primary source of enjoyment was picking on people decades his junior. Mister Morooka turned to me.

"Well, what about you, transfer student? Did your fancy city school ever teach you..." began Mister Morooka, but I didn't give him a chance to finish; he didn't deserve the courtesy.

" _A priori_  and  _a posteriori_ , respectively," I said. Mister Morooka said nothing; he just grumbled to himself. This was his usual response whenever someone answered correctly. Before he had the chance to devise some sort of snide retort, the movement of the clock's minute hand brought an end to the seemingly endless period of misery were subjected to. Much to Mister Morooka's agitation, everyone in the class immediately evacuated the room, not giving him even the smallest of openings to spout any more verbal abuse at us. I myself made my way downstairs. I leaned against the wall and ate the sandwich that I had bought at the school. A few of the freshman gave me strange looks; I suppose they fancied it odd that one of their upperclassmen would choose to hang out on their floor. I paid no mind to them, however; there was only one person that I wanted to see. I periodically looked left and right to see if Naoto was approaching. I hindsight, I probably shouldn't have just loitered around awkwardly waiting for her to come to me; I would have felt quite foolish had I waited downstairs for the entirety of lunch alone. Very fortunately for me, however, she did eventually emerge from one of the rooms. By sheer coincidence, it just so happened to be the door right across from the spot that I had chosen to wait. She slid the door open with a great deal of force and abruptly stopped as soon as she saw me. I must say, we developed quite a habit of surprising one another with our unexpected appearances during my first few days in Inaba, although it seemed as though the impact was diminishing rapidly with time.

"Oh, ah, hi, Yu," said Naoto.

"Hi, Naoto," I said. "Do you mind if we have a talk for a minute?"

"Ah, sure! Absolutely!" said Naoto. I glanced around at the hall full of people, who all seemed to turn their gazes towards Naoto and myself and started whispering among themselves. I had no way of knowing with total certainty, but I believe that it was safe to conclude that whatever it was they were talking about pertained to me and Naoto. I suppose that in a small school like Yasogami High, the sight of two transfer students, one of whom was a national celebrity, striking up a conversation when they, to their knowledge, at least, had no previous contact was a fascinating sight for the students. I had the sneaking suspected that rumors would begin to circulate in the near future. I was already receiving unwanted attention, but it had suddenly gotten far, far worse, and from the looks of it, Naoto was being unnerved even more than I was.

"Good, good. Can we, ah, move to somewhere more private," I whispered. Naoto's reply came nearly instantaneously.

"Please, let's," said Naoto, wishing to escape that situation as quickly as possible. Without another word, the two of us quickly ascended the stairs until we had reached the exit that led to the school's roof. In my experience, at least, few schools permit students to access the roof, but I had never in my entire life attended a school in which this rule was seriously enforced. Seldom was the door to the roof ever locked, and on the very rare occasion one was caught, not even the sternest of faculty members would ever dole out any punishment worse than a mild scolding. At the schools I attended, I was a regular at the rooftops, as it was one of the few places in a school that one could get any measure of peace and quiet, and the view was often quite nice. Upon reaching the roof of Yasogami that day, Naoto and I were indeed greeted by a nice view, but more importantly, we found solitude. The two of us took a seat on an elevated portion of the roof.

"So, ah, what did you want to talk about?" said Naoto, eagerly wanting to put the sudden thrust into the spotlight behind her. I found it quite curious. I inferred from our conversation the previous night that she was more irritated than disconcerted by the attention of her classmate, and yet those few short moments earlier had seemingly unsettled her greatly. I decided not to press the issue further; I didn't want to make her feel any more awkwardness than she already was.

"Oh, ah, I just wanted to ask how are you," I said.

"Just fine. Thank you for asking," said Naoto, putting on a small smile. I sighed internally. She was so very transparent whenever she tried to hide her feelings from me.

"Okay. Just know that if there is anything troubling you at all, I'm always ready to listen," I said, trying to nudge her into the direction of the obvious. I was hoping that after our heart-to-heart the previous day, she'd be more forthcoming with the goings-on in her life, but I didn't blame her for it; she was going through a turbulent period in her life, and we had been apart for seven long years; it would take more than just a few days for the full extent of the emotional closeness we once had to fully reestablish itself. Naoto began to fidget a bit.

"Well, ah, thank you very much, Yu, ah," began Naoto before letting out a deep sigh and turning to look at me with deep concern in her eyes. "Actually, yes, I would like to talk about something."

"Go on," I said. Naoto inhaled.

"Grampa still wasn't home when I headed out this morning. I know he's probably fine, I just can't stop thinking about, you know, considering the incident yesterday..." said Naoto before descending into incoherent stammering, her breathing becoming increasingly labored, and the shaking in her hands becoming more pronounced. It was reminiscent of what had happened to Nanako the previous night. I didn't say another word. Just like the day before, I took her in my arms. Unlike the day before, she returned the hug, grasping my abdomen weakly. She was more composed than she was the previous day, but that really isn't saying much. I didn't interrupt her words; I let her vent her anxiety, something she desperately needed to do. After a couple of minutes, she had finally regained the collectedness necessary to form coherent sentences.

"I know that it's irrational. I know it, but I can't keep these thoughts out of my head no matter how hard I try," said Naoto. "I can't stop thinking that something could have happened to Grampa, and my last words to him would be me expressing how bitter and resentful I was."

"It's okay, Naoto; I'm here for you," I said. I continued to let her vent her emotions. I did not interrupt. I did nothing to diminish her feelings of panic and sadness. Whenever she started to slide back into crippling fear, I would just repeat to her with the utmost sincerity, "It's okay, Naoto; I'm here for you."

"Ah, thank you," said Naoto after she had at long last regained her cool. She broke from my embrace and gazed out on the horizon. "For two consecutive days you've had to comfort me through one of my fits; I must look so pathetic."

"You're a lot of things, Naoto. Pathetic isn't one of them. Not even close," I said.

"I'm not used to feeling like this. It's been since I have felt so weary and anxious," said Naoto.

"You'll see your grandfather again. I guarantee it," I said.

"I know; I know, but what then?" said Naoto. It really wished that I could somehow make the situation between Naoto and her grandfather better, but all I could do was sit on the sidelines and occasionally give advice; the power to fix this rested entirely in Naoto's hands.

"Give it thought. I'm certain that you'll arrive at the correct conclusion," I said, putting on a reassuring smile.

"I hope that you're right, but I've been wracking my brain every night and day, but I can never think of the right words," said Naoto.

"Perhaps you need to take your mind off of it for a few hours. Approach the problem with a relaxed mind," I said.

"What do you have in mind?" asked Naoto.

"I received an invitation to dinner after school. A classmate offered to treat me. You're more than welcome to come along," I said. Naoto took a moment to think out her response. Perhaps she was nervous about the prospect of interacting with others at the school given her bad experiences with her own classmates. Perhaps she would have been more receptive to some alone time with me after school; nevertheless, I thought that I should at least make an attempt to help her make new friends. I know that I was probably one of the least qualified people to help Naoto befriend others, but Yosuke had extended an opportunity to do so that morning; I thought that I might as well take advantage of it, and if it turns out to not to pan out, so be it, no harm done.

"Yes, I think I'd like that very much," said Naoto with a strange mixture of both enthusiasm and reluctance.

"Good, good," I said. We stayed silent for a moment, just enjoying the sights. The school district hardly compared to the beauty of the greenery of the rolling hills, neighboring forests, and floodplains, but there was a certain novelty to the sight. Just being able to look from a rooftop without having the view obstructed by parking garages, offices, and skyscrapers was a new and interesting experience. From the roof of Yasogami, one can see far, far off into the distance, and the gentle, warm spring wind swept pleasantly across us. It was so, so very nice, and to see Naoto looking tranquilly off into the horizon. After taking a few minutes to enjoy the serenity of the scene, I spoke.

"So, about those books you were going to loan me," I said.

"Ah, I forgot to bring any with me today. It slipped my mind. Sorry. I can start tomorrow,"

"That sounds great, and there's no need to apologize," I said.

"Well, ah, what sort of books would you like to borrow?" asked Naoto.

"Anything's fine. I'm sure that whatever you choose will be excellent," I said.

"Well, might I recommend  _The Vigil of the Hunter_  is quite good," said Naoto.

"Oh, I've heard of that! I was never able to find a copy, though," I said.

"It had a very limited print run in Japan. I found my copy in a used bookstore. It's called  _Indrani's Incunabula._ If you ever find yourself in Sapporo, I highly recommend it," said Naoto.

"I'll keep that in mind," I said. Sadly, our small talk did not last much longer. Once we had gotten off the subject of books and moved into the realm of television, I took a glance at my watch to find that we had just a little over a single minute before lunch ended. I certainly didn't feel like that much time had passed.

"I heard rumors that a reboot of  _Jumbo Robo_  was being filmed. I wish that I could be optimistic about it, but it supposed director seems completely devoid of creativity..." began Naoto.

"Uh, it's been a pleasure Naoto, but we really need to get going," I said. Naoto looked down at her watch, and her expression morphed into one of alarm. She jumped up to her feet.

"Well, ah, it's been fun, Yu," said Naoto.

"Yeah. See you later," I said.

"Yes, yes," said Naoto before we both proceeded to make a mad dash to our respective classrooms.

* * *

The rest of my classes were interesting, but for none of the reasons that they should have been. While the subject matter was dull, mundane, and rudimentary, the various peculiar habits and mannerisms of my teachers were absolutely fascinating. Most notable among them was Miss Sofue, who paraded around class in a replica of a pharaoh's headdress while carrying a replica of a pharaoh's crook and acted as though there was nothing unusual about it. All the idiosyncrasies of my teachers seemed to make my classmates feel deeply awkward, but I found them beyond compelling. I eagerly anticipated the bizarre tangents they would go off on and completely irrelevant bits of trivia that they would toss into their lectures. As teachers, they were mediocre, but they gave me more than enough amusement and stimulation to keep me from being bored in class, yet another way that Inaba was superior to the cities I had lived in.

Anyway, when the final bell of the day rang, most students instantly flooded out into the halls, while a few remained behind to chat with their friends. Chie and Yukiko were nearby discussing something. I stood up to stretch my legs and was quickly approached by Yosuke.

"Hey, you ready to head out?" asked Yosuke.

"Yes," I said.

"Alright, you get your friend and tell them to meet up at the restaurant. It's over at..." said Yosuke before being interrupted.

"Hey!" exclaimed Chie, turning around and standing from her seat. "What about me, huh? No apologies? My  _Trial of the Dragon_?"

"You always come around when I'm talking about food," said Yosuke. It was quite impressive that Chie was able to hear Yosuke; he wasn't speaking particularly loudly, and given the distance between him and Chie and the chattering in the classroom, there is no way that a normal person would've been able to make out his words under those circumstances. Chie turned to face Yukiko again, who was busy gathering up her belongings.

"How about it, Yukiko? Don't you think he should treat us, too?" said Chie.

"I'll pass. I don't want to gain any more weight. I need to help out at the inn today, anyway," said Yukiko.

"Wow, Yukiko! You started training to take over the family business?" said Yosuke. Yukiko seemed to be rather annoyed by Yosuke's words, her face contorting into a bitter frown, which I found quite puzzling. Yosuke's words didn't strike me as anything that could be construed as offensive.

"It's not like that! I'm just helping out when it gets busy," said Yukiko defensively, the volume rising to match Chie's usual level. As quickly as her episode started, it ended, her composure quickly restored. "I should be on my way."

"Well, ah, it's too bad that you can't join us," I said.

"My apologies. Perhaps another time," said Yukiko before heading out the door.

"Well, I guess we should be going, too," said Chie. Yosuke sighed.

"I can't believe that I have to treat three people," said Yosuke, frustrated. He turned towards me.

"I'm sorry, Yu, but there's been a change of plans. Meet me and Chie at the Junes food court, if that's okay,"

"It's fine," I said. Chie, however, did not seem to be quite as okay with it as I was.

"Junes? That's the place you're treating me to? They don't even have grilled steak there!" said Chie angrily. She was starting to get so loud that she was attracting glares from what few of our classmates still remained in the room.

" Well, once you hopped on the freeloader train, I had to amend my plans," said Yosuke.

"Still, that's no reason to take us to your place!" said Chie.

"Dude, it's not even my place!" said Yosuke. I didn't really feel comfortable sticking around for Yosuke and Chie's spat any longer, and with no end in sight, I thought that it would be for the best if I excused myself.

"I'll be heading out now. See you two there, okay?" I said. Neither of them seemed to register my words. After exiting the classroom, I descended the stairs and waited by the classroom that I saw Naoto exit and lunchtime. Much to my surprise, she emerged almost immediately after I approached the door.

"Oh. Hello Yu," said Naoto, markedly less surprised than when she saw me at lunch.

"Hello, Naoto. Shall we head out?" I said. Naoto merely nodded, and we set out towards our destination.

"So, ah, where are we headed to?" asked Naoto.

"Junes," I replied.

"Very well," said Naoto. "Who is this person who invited you?"

"His name's Yosuke Hanamura, we walked to school together this morning," I said. I deliberately omitted the bit where I had to free Yosuke from a garbage can; while it would make for a humorous anecdote, I didn't think that he would want to suffer further embarrassment.

"Oh, ah, what's he like?" asked Naoto.

"He seems alright. He's a little goofy, but he's nice enough," I said.

"I see," said Naoto. She seemed lost in thought for a moment.

"Ah, Yu, do you think that I..." said Naoto. "Never mind."

"No, go ahead," I said.

"It's not important," said Naoto.

"Whatever is on your mind is important to me," I said.

"Do you think that I...belong there?" asked Naoto.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It's just that, ah, I don't think I can contribute anything to the gathering. I mean, you have already managed to establish some level of rapport with him, right? I think I'll just end up silently sitting there," said Naoto.

"To be honest, Naoto, I feel kind of the same way you do," I said.

"Pardon?" said Naoto.

"I don't really know what to expect from this. I haven't really been in this situation before. I never really hung out with anyone besides you, but I was given an opportunity, and I would be remiss if I didn't at least try. Am I making sense?" I said.

"I suppose so," said Naoto. I could tell that she still wasn't completely convinced. I sincerely hoped that this experiment didn't end in catastrophe. Junes wasn't overly far from the school, so we had only a few meager minutes to discuss each other's days. Naoto's classmates, it seems, had gotten the message that she didn't want to discuss her personal or professional life with them, but they still whispered about her when they falsely thought that she couldn't hear. I regaled her with tales of my bizarre teachers to ease her mood, and I managed to elicit a few smirks from her. It would appear that we both found the course material uninteresting, something not surprising at all. When we finally made it to the food court, I was quite shocked to find that Yosuke and Chie had arrived before us despite the fact that Naoto and I left earlier. Either Naoto and I were very slow walkers or Yosuke and Chie furiously sprinted over there once they had gotten bored of arguing.

"Hey, Yu! Over here!" shouted Yosuke, raising his arm. Chie didn't not Naoto or me; she was too busy voraciously consuming her food, of which she had ordered enough to feed five grown men or perhaps more. Naoto and I took seats opposite them.

"Right on time!" said Yosuke. Chie had finally noticed us, looking up from her meal, her chin covered in some sort of red sauce.

"Hey!" said Chie, her mouth still full of food.

"Good to see you two," I said.

"Is this your friend?" asked Yosuke.

"Yes, this is Naoto," I said.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," said Naoto quietly.

"So, what can I get you guys? It's on me," said Yosuke. I could see that Naoto was quite relieved that neither Yosuke nor Chie were immediately grilling her with questions. Perhaps they didn't pay much attention to the news. Perhaps they didn't recognize her. Perhaps they just didn't care. Whatever the case, this seemed to alleviate some of Naoto's concerns about meeting these two.

"I'll just have a salad," I said. Unlike Chie, I didn't feel like exploiting Yosuke.

"Coffee, please. Black," said Naoto.

"Be back in a second," said Yosuke. After a couple of seconds of hearing nothing but Chie's vicious chewing, she finally swallowed.

"Hey, how'd you meet Yosuke, anyway?" said Chie, already having forgotten that I had witnessed her assault him the previous day.

"Oh, we just met up on the way to school today," I said.

"I see," said Chie. "Hey, I've heard that there was a first-year transfer student, too. Is that you, Naoto?"

"Ah, yes. I came in from Sapporo," said Naoto.

"Really? Two transfer students from the big city, huh? You guys must think it's pretty boring out here," said Chie. She finally decided to wipe her chin.

"No, not really," I said.

"I think it's quite nice here," said Naoto.

"Oh. Well, that's good, I guess," said Chie.

"Alright, I'm back," said Yosuke, handing me my salad, and Naoto her coffee.

"Thank you very much," said Naoto and I simultaneously.

"Has Chie been bothering you two?" asked Yosuke jokingly. I was about to respond in the negative, but Chie spoke first.

"No, I was just telling them about Inaba, the stuff to do in town, and how good the grilled steak is in town," said Chie before abruptly raising the volume of her voice and turning towards Yosuke. "It's too bad that they don't sell any here!"

"You know what? I don't feel like arguing anymore. Just be grateful I'm treating you at all," said Yosuke. From there Chie, Yosuke, and I engaged in pleasant small talk while Naoto simply sat there and stared at her coffee that she clearly wasn't enjoying yet still continued to drink.

"Hey, Naoto, you aren't talking much. Is something wrong?" asked Yosuke.

"Ah, no. I just don't have all that much to say," said Naoto in return. Sadly, it seemed as though Naoto wasn't really hitting it off with my classmates. Without any obvious provocation, Yosuke stood up and turned around.

"Hey! Saki!" shouted Yosuke. Off in the distance, I saw a Junes employee who looked to be about our age looked up. Yosuke approached her.

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Saki Konishi. Her family runs a liquor store in the shopping district. I think she's working here part-time," said Chie. Yosuke seemed to be mid-sentence in his conversation with Saki when she rose from her seat and started approaching our table. Yosuke followed.

"Are you the transfer student from Shibuya?" Saki asked me. She didn't even seem to register Naoto's presence, although Naoto did not seem the least bit bothered by this.

"Ah, yes. Yu Narukami. A pleasure to meet you," I said.

"I don't see Yosuke hanging out with the other guys much," said Saki.

"Uh, not necessarily," said Yosuke, somewhat embarrassed.

"I hope you two get along good. Yosuke doesn't have too many friends,"

"Well, I'm very sorry to hear that," I said.

"I guess it's because he can be a bit nosy sometimes. You gotta tell him right to his face when he starts to annoy you," continued Saki.

"No, no! He seems like a great guy!" I said. Saki let out a tired and very fake laugh.

"I know. I'm just kidding," said Saki. No, it was very clear that she wasn't kidding. She made no effort to hide the fact that she was not playfully teasing him; she was delivering thinly veiled insults. Everyone present seemed to notice this, with one exception.

"Come on, Saki, there's no need to worry about me," said Yosuke, laughing nervously. I could only think of one reason that he could be so willfully blind to Saki's contempt for him, and it was very, very sad. Yosuke was pursuing someone who did not hold even the smallest bit of fondness for him.

"My break's about over. Back to work I go. Laters!" said Saki with a wave.

"Oh, uh, Saki," called out Yosuke, but Saki didn't even acknowledge him. Yosuke took a seat.

"Saki says I'm annoying, but she's even nosier than me," said Yosuke. "She has a younger brother, and she treats me pretty much the same way."

"Oh, you don't want her treating you like a brother, huh. I get it. So that's how it is," said Chie, reveling in the futility of Yosuke's crush.

"Dude, it's not like that!" said Yosuke, convincing no one.

"The daughter of a local family-run liquor store and the scion of the invading chain...oh, he flame of forbidden love!" said Chie in a dramatic tone.

"I said it's not like that!" said Yosuke.

"Oh, really? Well, I know just the thing to cheer up that lovesick heart. You ever hear of the Midnight Channel?" said Chie. "You're supposed to look into a TV that's switched off, alone, exactly at midnight on a rainy night. While you're staring at your own image, another person will appear on the screen, and they say that person's your soulmate."

"Do you honestly believe that hogwash?" asked Naoto in an unamused tone of voice. Yosuke sighed.

"You know, for a second, I thought you might say something useful. How can you get so excited over such a childish urban legend?" said Yosuke.

"I have to agree with Yosuke and Naoto," I said. "It sounds more than a little far-fetched."

"You guys don't believe it, do you?" said Chie.

"Of course we don't!" said Yosuke.

"Well, it's raining tonight! Let's all try it out! Then you'll see!" said Chie.

"Try it out? You haven't even tried it yourself? Wow, I can't remember a time when I heard something this stupid," said Yosuke.

"Can we move on to something less absurd?" said Naoto.

"Excellent idea, Naoto! You guys know about that incident yesterday? Do you think it was a murder?"

"I don't really know how a body could get into that position by accident, so yeah, probably," I said.

"You hear that, Chie? Oh, what if the culprit behind it is still lurking around?" said Yosuke, trying and failing to get a rise out of Chie.

"Do not make light of such thing, Hanamura," said Naoto angrily. While I understood why Naoto would have such a reaction, Chie and Yosuke were no doubt taken aback by her sudden change in attitude, Everyone at the table languished in silence for a few moments.

"I think we're done here. See you guys later," said Chie.

"I probably lost a week's pay on Chie's food alone," mused Yosuke aloud.

"Well, this all could have been avoided if you hadn't broken my  _Trial of the Dragon_!" said Chie.

"You're still going on about this?" said Yosuke incredulously.

" _Trial of the Dragon_ is definitely one of Brice Li's weaker works. It's not terrible, but the amount of celebration it has received over the past three decades is undeserved, in my opinion," mused Naoto absentmindedly. Everyone else at the table was stunned.

"Huh. Then what do you recommend, Naoto?" asked Chie.

" _Circle of Steel._ It never achieved the same popular or critical success as Li's other work, but it's a very cerebral experience and demonstrates that Li is just as competent as a writer as he is a martial artist and actor," said Naoto. This exchange lasted for a few more minutes. I was quite surprised that Naoto seemed to have a more fulfilling conversation with Chie. Despite being abrasive and sometimes rude, Chie captured Naoto's interest more than Yosuke, who she still seemed apathetic towards.

"Well, it's been nice, guys," said Yosuke, checking his phone for time, "but I've gotta go."

"Huh?" Chie checked her phone as well. "Dang, I didn't think that much time had passed! See you guys later!"

"Hm," was the only sound that escaped Naoto's vocal chords as she nodded in acknowledgment of Chie and Yosuke's departure.

"How'd you find them?" I asked as soon as Chie and Yosuke were out of earshot.

"I suppose that they're okay. I wouldn't necessarily object to doing this again," said Naoto. Most people wouldn't consider that much, but for Naoto and me, the day was quite a success.

"Glad to hear it!" I said. Naoto suddenly let out a very loud and undignified yawn. I was the only person who could hear it most likely, as the food court had emptied out considerably; nevertheless, Naoto looked so embarrassed that one would think that a crowd of thousands had heard her.

"Woah, where did that come from?" I asked jokingly.

"I'm sorry; I'm just very tired," said Naoto. I looked at my watch. It was about the same time that she had gone off to bed the previous night.

"Then you should go home; get some rest," I said. Naoto nodded.

"Yes, yes. See you tomorrow?" said Naoto.

"Yes. See you tomorrow," I said.

After Naoto departed with a smile on her face, I carried out my plan of procuring the necessary ingredients to cook the Dojimas a proper meal. I had nothing extravagant in mind, just some pork cutlets. While shopping, I took a brief detour through Junes's book section and found it woefully inadequate. It was nothing but mainstream successes that I had already read and torrid romance novels that weren't worth the paper that they were printed on. I suppose that I shouldn't have been surprised. I gave consideration to heading over to the bookstore in the shopping district, but given the disapproving stares from the police officers who were lingering in the store, I decided that it would probably be unwise. While police presence in Inaba had dropped considerably from the previous day, but there were still quite a few officers stationed around town. With great disappointment, I headed back to the Dojima residence. I suppose that I shouldn't have been too upset; there was always the next day, and Naoto had offered to share her undoubtedly voluminous collection with me.

Upon arrival at my destination, I found Nanako alone in her usual spot. I wanted, the meal I was preparing to be a surprise, so I stealthily tucked the shopping bags away in the refrigerator before announcing, my arrival.

"I'm home," I said once the refrigerator door was closed. Nanako turned to face me.

"Oh. Hello," said Nanako.

"So, ah, did your dad ever come back?" I asked hesitantly, hoping not to dredge up any buried anxiety.

"No, not yet," said Nanako, sounding very sad. While she was significantly calmer than the previous night, a great relief to me, she was still obviously upset and worried.

"I see," I said. I refrained from starting dinner. I wanted the whole family present. "So, what are you watching."g

" _Peril_. It's this quiz show I like. There's a marathon on," said Nanako.

"Can I watch with you?" I asked.

"Sure," said Nanako. I seemed to have put her in a better mood, if only by a tiny bit.

"Alright," I said, taking a seat beside her. "How was school today?"

"Really boring," said Nanako. Nanako was mostly quiet as we watched television. Most of the questions were far too advanced for some of her age and went straight over her head, but she was able to correctly answer quite a few. Nanako was surprisingly proficient in the realms of classical literature and theology for someone of her age. I elected to answer nothing, merely giving her sincere congratulations when she got a question right. For a while, she seemed to slowly grow more at ease, but as the minutes stretched on into hours and Dojima remained nowhere in sight, Nanako started to grow nervous once more, eventually spending more time staring at the door rather than the television. Nanako and I were both growing very tired, unable to concentrate on the television. I was about to give up on Dojima arriving that night and head off to bed when the door violently slid open.

"What a day," mumbled Dojima. His eyes seemed even heavier than ours, and he was looking slightly paler than usual. The bags under his eyes had grown considerably.

"Ah, welcome home!" I said as Dojima approached the couch.

"Dad!" shouted Nanako.

"I'm back. Did anything happen while I was out?" asked Dojima.

"Ah, no, sir. Nanako and I were just watching TV," I said.

"You're late again!" said Nanako angrily, suddenly full of energy again.

"I'm sorry. Been busy at work. Put the news on for me," said Dojima. Nanako begrudgingly did as he asked.

"Next, more details in the developing story on the incident in foggy Inaba. Announcer Mayumi Yamano's dead body was found hanging above a house in the isolated rural town. It is confirmed that Miss Yamano had been involved in an affair with Taro Namatame, husband of enka singer Misuzu Hiiragi," began the announcer, repeating much of what was already said the previous day. "The police plan to investigate this relationship and question any personnel involved with them. In addition, we now bring you an exclusive interview with the local student who found Miss Yamano's body."

"An interview with the kid? Where the hell did they find her," asked Dojima. The video feed abruptly switched to a reporter and a girl whose face was heavily blurred. Despite the attempt at obfuscation, the girl's wavy brown hair was unmistakable; it was Saki.

"What went through your mind when you saw it? Could you tell she was dead? Did you see her face?" said the reporter, already encroaching in Saki's personal space.

"Don't you think it's scary that someone was killed on a foggy day?" asked the reporter without giving Saki the chance to answer his first few questions. I supposed that journalistic professionalism was a dying art.

"Huh? She was killed?" said Saki in a voice distorted so heavily that it was nearly unintelligible.

"So, did you see anyone suspicious around here?" asked the reporter.

"Uh, no, not really," said Saki.

"We heard that you found it when you left school early. Did you have some personal business to take care of?" asked the reporter, starting to sound more like a paparazzo than a legitimate journalist. The reporter continued his barrage of questions, hardly giving Saki a chance to speak. Overall, very little was actually answered. Once the clip interview ended, the announcer continued his report.

"Many local store owners are raising concerns that the incident will result in a loss of customers," said the announcer.

"If they lose more any more business, it'll be because you people are making such a stinking about it," said Dojima to himself.

"It really is a bizarre case, isn't it? I mean, hanging someone upside down from an antenna. I'd have to say that it's a warning or a sign from the culprit," said a commentator to the announcer. It was quite a logical leap for a layman to make.

"Yes, but no one has come forward to take credit for the crime," said the announcer.

"Loads of prank calls, though," said Dojima with a deep yawn.

"So the cause of death is still unknown, and they don't have a single suspect yet? Taxpayer money is going to a police force who can't even figure out if this is an accident or a homicide!" said the commentator with outrage. The sigh of anger and frustration that Dojima let out was audible.

"We'll be right back after these messages," said the announcer.

"Dojima, what do you make of all this?" I asked. I received no response. I turned to find Dojima sleeping peacefully in his sleep.

"Geez," said Nanako with frustration.

"Well, uh, I'm going to bed," I said.

"Okay," said Nanako.

"What about you?" I asked.

"I think I'll stay here for a little while," said Nanako.

"Alright. Good night," I said.

"Night," said Nanako.

When I got to my room, I immediately headed to bed; I wanted to be rested for the next day, but no matter how hard I tried, sleep would not come to me. Not even the soothing sound of rain coming from outside could relax me. Instead, my mind decided to torment me with thoughts about Naoto's troubles. I was able to distract her from her woes for a day, but in terms of actually helping resolve the issue, I contributed nothing.

"Don't worry about it; there's nothing that you can do about it," is what some people would often say to me when I shared my worries with them, and answers like that were precisely why I rarely shared my worries with others. The knowledge that I couldn't do anything to change a situation made me feel much, much worse, not better. Being able to change something, even if its hard, means you have the power to make things better; having to watch something bad unfold and being unable to do a thing to stop is one of the worst feelings in the world. I periodically looked over at the clock. When midnight was but a minute away, I got up and stared into the television on my dresser. I didn't expect anything to happen; I had intended to sleep through the night and never give the Midnight Channel a single thought ever again. No disrespect to Chie, but hers was one of the most patently ridiculous stories that I had ever heard in my entire life up to that point. That being said, it wasn't though I had anything better to do that restless night.

The clock struck midnight. Nothing happened. I stood there for a few more seconds. Nothing happened. I turned back to the futon, cursing myself for even entertaining such a silly idea, but less than a second after I turned my gaze from the television, I heard static. I turned back. It looked as though the television had been tuned to a dead channel, even though the television was very much turned off. I couldn't believe it. I got up close to the television, trying to make sure that I hadn't turned it on by accident. That's when I saw it.

The silhouette of a girl was slowly coming into focus. It was hard to make out at first, but as the seconds wore on, it became clear that it was the outline of Saki Konishi. It was unexpected to say the very least. I didn't get much time to reflect on the surprising nature of this revelation, however, as the static of the television was soon joined by a much, much more disruptive sound.

"I am thou. Thou art I. Thou art the one who opens the door," said a booming voice coming from deep within my head. The headache I developed when I first came to Inaba was nothing compared to what I felt in that moment. It was as though something was trying to drill its way from out of my skull. I fell to my knees, rendered unable to stand by the pain. I slowly looked up at the television. The static had faded, but something was not right. The way the light hit the television screen, the reflections, everything was wrong about it. It called out to me. I struggled my way onto my feet, I slowly extended my hand towards the screen. Imagine my surprise when my hand passed through the glass as though it were water, ripples visible in the surface. My heart jumped before I could withdraw my hand in shock, a strong force began to tug on my arm. I fought it with all my might, trying to pull my hand from whatever supernatural dimension it had entered, but the force only got stronger. I planted my feet firmly on the ground struggling to keep my entire body from being pulled into the television, but it was of no use. Before I knew it my body jerked forward, and my head was within the television, but what I saw on the other side was certainly not the interior of a CRT television. It was some infinite void with nothing but fog as far as the eye could see, the air cold as ice. My shoulders ached from the other side of the portal. It seemed as though the small size of the television would save me. I summoned all of my strength and pulled myself free from the unseen force that sought to bring me into its world. I tumbled backward, cracking my head on the table in my room. After the room stopped spinning, I simply sat there, staring at the television in awe for some unknown length of time.

Anyone who thinks that I got even a single wink of sleep that night is sorely mistaken.


End file.
